


Ringing the Changes

by Chya



Category: Mutant X
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-13
Updated: 2003-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 44,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chya/pseuds/Chya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One possible future where each Mutant X member has to follow their own path in a world turned a little darker.</p><p>In a dark future, hope comes from an unlikely source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Middle

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Tiny ones for a lot of episodes. Most notably Altered Ego. Also BT, NMLB…
> 
> Many thanks to Jen, Claire and Wyn for saying nice things and being generally encouraging and Hoooooooojjjjjjjjjjj HUGS and thanks to JillyW for putting up with much cursing and doing a sterling beta job. All remaining mistakes are all mine.
> 
> I don't know anything about anything, and techno babble is just techno babble. 
> 
> AU inasmuch as it's outside canon. In the future, actually.

The Middle  
XXXXXXXXX

Five rings there were, five rings of those with power, those that led all others.

They lay alone, untouched by the living since their bearers lay them to rest deep within a mountain as the world waged a war of human and mutant. A short war, but vicious and decimating, no side able to take the mantle of black or white, all battling in shades of gray.

The mutant rebellion had been quashed. The ferals killed or caged, the moleculars enslaved in mines and quarries whose automated robotics had been destroyed. Elementals kept tethered in power stations and factories, providing the energy for humans to function, live and rebuild while psionics and those with other powers too dangerous, or which simply didn't have any practical application, were killed out of hand in the global freak farms.

For once, humankind was united in a hatred that would last as long as the planetary desolation, and a thirst for destruction that would last as long as there were mutants to exploit and destroy.

For those very few renegades and outlaws of both human and mutant kind who still believed in the right to live, a legend was growing; the story of a small, elusive group who even before the war, as well as during, helped mutants to escape horrific fates and integrate into civilized society with humans who accepted who and what they were. A group who fought tenaciously for the right of mutants to live in peace alongside humans. Legend said that only the plain silver ring they wore could identify a member of that group.

But the rings had been carefully abandoned as their bearers chose to go different ways, take different paths, each believing they were fighting for peace and equality, yet never quite able to reconcile and unite through their own differences.

Now, the war was over and exactly a year had passed since the rings had been buried here beneath the ruins of Sanctuary. And one person took it upon himself to find each ring bearer and return the band of silver to them.

He was a man of no side at all, a man who, in the far distant past, had been scarred and beaten yet survived to rule his own ruthless empire. A man who was not quite human, yet not quite mutant.

A man who, before the war, had been known as Mason Eckhart but, now that it was over, no longer had a name to call his own.


	2. The Beginning

The Beginning  
XXXXXXXXXXXX

=13 Months

At the beginning of 2004, mutants started coming out of the woodwork.

It started with a feral named Lucy, plain speaking and articulate, feline enough that her mutancy was clear, yet not displeasing to the human eye. Her reception was indifferent on the surface, and she encouraged others. Peoples' opinions became mixed, leaning towards the negative, but since this was better than Lucy, or any mutant who looked at the bigger picture over their own security, could have hoped for, optimism grew. Information concerning Genomex and its government links were leaked gently to the press, helping to promote sympathy for the mutant cause. Most leaks were quashed, but enough were printed that conspiracy theorists had some idea that these freaks of nature were created by human hand.

Around this time a powerful industrialist, William Morrisen gained a senate seat on a platform of anti-mutant propaganda, easily done since he represented a state known for its often violent intolerance of the different.

Riots started breaking out, small ones here and there in major cities, rapidly escalating over the weeks, months, until it all culminated in the Halloween Riot. What started out as a peaceful mutant demonstration turned into a full-fledged car-burning riot, something not unusual at that time. Humans and mutants alike fought tooth and nail, almost all believing they were right. There were a few unfortunate fatalities and many injuries on all sides, but it became infamous for the deaths of three individuals in particular.

The first was Lucy, who had the misfortune to be struck in the head by a large rock which shattered her skull, thrown from what could have been anywhere in the confusion. And the others were two children, a young brother and sister, playing innocently in the park through which the demonstration passed. The media ignored the fact that the children were cremated before autopsies could be performed, focusing almost wholly on the fact that they had been eviscerated. They could have died by knife but, because the media dictated otherwise, it was generally accepted that they were murdered by claw.

The fact that this most shocking of events occurred on the day of the Witching Hour did nothing to help the mutant cause, and The Halloween Riot became infamous for sparking off the Mutant War.

*****

In the garden there was almost silence only disturbed by the water trickling merrily and oblivious into the pond.

The five people that stood in a loose circle were all too aware of the muted pounding at the walls, the vents and the pipes, searching out all the weak spots that Sanctuary might possess. The Mutageddon Virus had wiped the computers clean, destroying information highways and stores, gobbling anything and everything in its path, including security systems.

They weren't under attack by any super-mutant or immoral business conglomerate, weren't under threat of experimentation or someone after their information, their mutant database.

They were under attack by a lynch mob of proportions big enough to quash the National Guard. To fight was to commit suicide and that was something that none were prepared to consider in these climes. They could serve better by keeping alive and doing as much as they could out there in the world.

Reluctant as they were to admit it, it was time the group split up to follow their own destinies. In order to preserve its visions and goals, Mutant X had to die. The underground, although busier than ever, could continue without them; there were enough good people willing and able to ensure mutants got out of violent sectors and into relatively safe environments.

They each swore that they would be back to collect their ring when the opportunity came, that they wouldn't forget their time here, and that they would stay in contact one way or another. That they would always remain friends, no matter what happened. Emma even went so far as to suggest they meet up in exactly a year's time, like they did in that old movie. They all smiled, and while a pact to do so was obviously not forthcoming, the idea being just too corny, neither did anyone deny the thought.

Adam closed the box and, turning the waterfall off, put it in the small safe below the mouth from where the water fell. The same safe held another lever that opened a door in the floor that Adam tripped before locking the safe and switching the waterfall back on again.

The five hugged and said goodbye to each other, not knowing if the chance would arise again, and made their way through the trapdoor and tunnel that would bring them out deep in the woods.

In Sanctuary's own sanctuary, the trapdoor sealed closed behind them and the rings began the long wait for their return.

Chapter 2: Minus 12 Months  
-12 Months

"As the mutant fear spreads rapidly worldwide, riots have been contained by police and military officials." Proxy Blue's plastic smiling face managed to reinforce all the sarcasm conveyed in her tone with a sideways glance. "Or should that be 'brutally squashed'? In any case, it seems that Downing Street and the Kremlin are both with the White House in their condemnation of the mutant terror.

"And the public are asking, 'where did these mutants come from?' Anyone care to answer that one? I didn't think so. The French Ambassador to Beijing has the Chinese Premier behind closed doors. I wonder what's being said in there, hm? As for our antipodean siblings, they seem blissfully unaware. Or maybe their governments are better at keeping secrets, in which case a certain clandestine visit to Canberra by a Tokyo official bears watching." Proxy Blue leaned forward, winking conspiratorially. "And don't forget to keep those stories coming, human, mutant, alien or earthworm. I love a good bedtime read."

Adam Kane looked General Sperling in the eye. "You're a soldier, you know that the first rule of war is to know your enemy and know yourself," he began seriously, but he should have known that the officer was too impatient for a lecture.

"Sun-tzu," Sperling said flatly. "Classic reading. What exactly are you getting at?"

"You have no idea how diverse mutants can be, in both nature and powers." Adam leaned forward as he tried to get his point across. This was a dry run for him. Beverly had been unable to get anyone to talk to him, but she had managed to get hold of a couple of schedules for people who he might be able to bully his way in to see the next couple of days. "Like any group of humans there are those that threaten and destroy, but the vast majority only want to be allowed to live their lives, have jobs, kids, dogs and white picket fences."

Sperling tipped his head and frowned. "Now, you know that's not going to happen in this generation. And I don't see many people intending for there to be a next generation."

Adam nodded. "I know that all too well. But these people are not mutants of their own choice. It was normal humans like you and, uh, me, that made them. How fair is it to deny them the opportunity to have those kids just because they might pass on the mutant genes? It's not a disease, and some would even argue that it's the next evolutionary step. How is it just to condemn them for something that's not of their making?"

"It's not," Sperling agreed. "But I don't make the rules. I just see some freak shoot flamethrowers at me or my men and I kill him. It's a matter of protection, defense, and following orders."

"Both the soldier's glory and his excuse," Adam muttered, feeling frustrated and pushing it down as he realized that it was a feeling he'd better get used to pretty damned quick. He changed tactic. "The other side of the coin then. There are people in the government who want this war, who are stirring it up. Is that not a kind of corruption? And isn't it your job to protect against that?"

"You're confusing me with a saint," Sperling smiled without humor. "It's my job to do as the boss says while trying to keep my men alive. A war gives me job security and I gotta say, show me a government anywhere on the planet, current or past, that hasn't been corrupt and I'll show you a big fat blue flying pig."

Standing outside Sperling's office, Adam decided that talking to soldiers really wasn't his forte, even intelligent soldiers such as Sperling.

Perhaps the politicians would be more amenable.

He could dream, couldn't he?

It was much the same sermon that Emma and Shalimar tried to preach at a Mutant X safe house where a handful of New Mutants were muttering about taking up arms in revenge for the injustices done. Emma tried to emulate Adam, which unfortunately left her audience twitching nervously.

However, Shalimar bounded forward, made them sit up straight and pay attention. "We are not going to sit around on our asses and take this," she told them, "we're going to talk to the people that can make things happen. If we have to tie them to their armchairs and scream in their ears, we are going to make them listen. We are going to defend ourselves, first and foremost with words, but where we have to we'll defend ourselves with our powers. Some of us have natural offensive weapons, some defensive, some none at all. But we are never, ever, going to pick up a gun. Or a K-Bar, or anything other than what they gave us when they fucked up our DNA."

"Er, Shal," Emma said softly, "you're starting to sound like a human hater."

"What? No, I'm… uh, right." She cleared her throat and continued, making an effort not to let her natural enthusiasm get ahead of her. "We're also going to protect those who can't defend themselves. This not only means protecting mutants against humans, but also humans against mutants. It's in our best interests to both protect our own, and protect others from those who give us all a bad name. And we will only ever use lethal force in life or death situations."

She glared at the young people in front of her, and then scowled. "Got it?"

As one they nodded rapidly, eyes wide, hope and smiles written over their faces and Emma realized that, while these people were prepared to fight for their right to live, they needed someone to guide and lead them. That for the moment, she and Shalimar had found their calling.

Jesse angrily sent the car hurtling down the Van Hansen's drive towards the main road. They were the last in a long line of friends and acquaintances of his parents that had money, influence and/or power. With those that had some influence, he dared to sound out the possibility of help in supporting human/mutant relations and taking down those that wanted to destroy the mutants. Some of them he'd been certain would have helped if they thought they could do it anonymously.

But Jesse was rapidly finding out that his parents' friends and acquaintances were only friends and acquaintances with the Kilmartin fortune. Power and influence didn't really feature in the Kilmartin heritage, what with Noah being a socially inept no-hoper who never looked like his maid had seen an iron, according to Arabella Montebrina, an ex-friend. Not to forget that his mother had been a white trash whore who had slept with more men than Mary Magdalene, and although Noah said she died in a car crash, we all know what happened really, don't we, as said by the junior Ms Van Hansen, much to her father's dismay. Of course, Mr. Van Hansen obviously hadn't realized that Jesse was still in earshot when he mentioned the hopes that Society had had for the youngest Kilmartin, with his mother's good looks and grandfather's brains. And then to discover the child was one of them, oh the embarrassment, do you think we should tell someone?

Feeling angrily suicidal for just a flash, Jesse hit the main road and floored the gas, fishtailing across and cutting up a couple of cars that honked and yelled angrily at him. He gave them the finger, felt better and headed for a couple of friends and acquaintances of his own that just might help out.

In the dark smoky bar, Brennan swigged beer and played pool with some random guy. He liked this place, came in here regularly, had done so even before he'd met Adam. Here, apart from Proxy Blue jabbering away on the TV in the corner, it was like any other day. No war, no oppression, just civilized people enjoying a drink, a joke and a shot at the table.

He'd come here as part of his attempts to keep his ear to the ground, see what the buzz was, work out where he should best lay his talents, but most of the conversation seemed to be revolving around last night's hockey game.

The door opened and an old man came in. Everyone called him Eli, although no one knew if that was really his name, and he was a regular in this place, but otherwise homeless. Begged enough during the day for a few drinks, slept at the hostel, did no one any harm. Today was different and Brennan was shocked when virtually the entire bar rounded on the bewildered old man, even blocking the way out. They called him a mutant and knocked him to the floor, prepared kick the living daylights out of him. But then Brennan was standing over him, ready to fight, demanding to know what was going on.

"He's a mutant, and we don't want his kind in here," the barkeep said. "Causing us enough trouble as it is. This place is supposed to be a haven away from it all."

"It's no haven if you discriminate," Brennan told him. "And besides, he's too old to be a new mutant. The first mutant ever made would still be less than forty."

"He is a mutant," the barkeep insisted and one of the other men pulled up Eli's hand, tearing off the worn glove. "And how do you know so much?"

Brennan swore as he saw Eli's hand. Six fingers. A natural deformity and not even an unusual one. Even Marilyn Monroe'd had six toes. "That's it? That's why you're calling him a mutant? And anyway, what has he ever done to you?"

"It's not what he's done, it's what he might do. And you didn't answer, what makes you such an expert?"

Brennan looked at the floor and shook his head before raising his hands to roll up a ball of electricity. "He's not a mutant and I know that, because I am!" Angrily making sure his spectators got a good look at glowing ball of energy, he blasted an empty table in the corner into splinters. The barkeep and patrons dove for cover, crying out in terror while Brennan took the opportunity to pick up the old man and take them both out of the bar.

Once out in the clear light of day, he looked back regretfully; he'd never be able to go in there again. And then he realized the bigger implications. No doubt his little tantrum will have escalated into a full-blown riot by the ten o'clock news.

Eli tugged at his arm, and Brennan looked down at the wizened and whiskered face. The old man seemed okay, just a little shocky and bruised, no worse than he'd get if he arrived too late to get a bed at the shelter and had to take cardboard box.

"You're a good boy," said Eli, patting his arm fondly. "A good boy." And then he was hobbling away towards the soup kitchen, leaving Brennan standing alone and wondering how the hell people could be so fucking cruel.

"I'm sorry, did I just hear you correctly?" Mason Eckhart frowned at Senator Byrnes as they took coffee in the lounge of the Capitol Gentleman's Club.

"You did!" The fat man's rolls of fat wobbled indignantly. "I couldn't believe it myself. Even the redoubtable Ermintrude couldn't stop him and I'd have bet she could halt a hurricane in its tracks with just a glare. I mean, the cheek of it, bursting in unannounced like that!"

Eckhart could feel his lips twitch with suppressed mirth at the idea of Adam breezing past the stick thin Ermintrude with the sharp bones, sharp tongue and sharper wit. "Some people have no sense of propriety…" he shrugged, leaving the sentence hanging. "What was he after, did he say?"

"Oh, some nonsense about mutants having equal rights with humans. An absolutely disgusting affair."

"As you say." Eckhart leaned back in the chair and sipped at his coffee. "Mutants shouldn't be allowed to - "

"No, not mutants, boy. Just listen, would you?" Eckhart smiled politely and kept his temper in check as Byrnes rambled on. "He barged in just as the chiropodist was seeing to me! I mean, quite the wrong impression could have been given!"

Eckhart wondered exactly what the chiropodist might have been 'seeing to' to give a wrong impression before quickly deciding that that was area he really didn't want to think about too closely. "Oh, I couldn't agree more," he murmured, sipping at his tea. "Hm, don't you think it might be an idea to warn others about Mr. Kane dropping in unannounced? Personally I wouldn't give him the time day under any circumstance, far too aggressive. And I'm certain there are others who would appreciate knowing that they could be caught in, uh, situations that could cause the wrong impressions."

"Yes, yes, you're quite right." Byrnes slurped at his beverage. "It would never do, must make sure this whippersnapper doesn't cause trouble, eh?"

By the time Byrnes left for another appointment with his chiropodist, Eckhart was quite certain that the next occasion that Adam came across Ermintrude or one of her peers, he would not find it so easy to gain entrance.

Chapter 3: Minus 11 Months  
-11 Months

"The UN summit this afternoon surprised many people, although this reporter knew better." Proxy Blue was looking particularly smug. "Given the panicked movements of so many world leaders recently along with various meetings behind closed doors, it was inevitable that they would all be brought to the big table in the end. The question is, what little alliances have been made outside the big table?

"It's been deemed that the mutant menace is a global threat since these monsters do reside worldwide, even though the greatest concentration by far is in the United States. Anyone wonder why that would be? But worse than that, you can't tell a mutant by just looking at them. Of course, no one is saying that because it wouldn't be politically correct, but how many are thinking it?

"Global martial law may seem like overkill to some, but reports of spontaneous combustion and core meltdown threats are abounding. But on the other hand, does anyone really think a bunch of human soldiers is going to stop lynch mobs either? And has anyone else noticed that since the Halloween Riot, no one has asked a single mutant their opinion on the subject? Maybe someone should. Keep the stories coming in, web weavers, things are spicing up."

Brennan toasted the TV screen as Proxy Blue launched into a tale of conspiracy. Another day, another bar, and although he'd made some contacts over the last couple of weeks, he was finding that he was preferring his own company. The thieves he ran with these days really didn't care about mutants one way or another, mixing freely and only seeing 'special' skills in relation to a con or a job. But there was always the exception, and the exceptions were dangerous; they were the ones that saw the moneymaking possibilities of capturing and selling mutants on. The market was too limited at the moment, only Genomex giving a small reward. But word on the street was that it wouldn't be long before mutants would become a hot commodity. Big question was, would it be legalized or not? Those on the street hoped not, mostly because it would open up a whole new Black Market.

Word on the street also had it that there was someone, a Mister Big, who was manipulating all this from backstage. However opinion was divided as to whether it was a politician with his own agenda, a mind-mutant playing head-fuck with six billion people, or a council of aliens from Alpha Centauri.

His drink suddenly tasting sour, Brennan left it half empty and departed the bar to head back towards the motel he was staying at. He was acquiring resources, but had no direction to focus them in. However, since the other ex-members of Mutant X were having no real success in their chosen paths, he would keep going as he was for the moment.

Passing the alley next to the soup kitchen, some odd feeling made him look into it. A cat yowled and leaped away, but that wasn't what caught his eye. Rather, it was a foot poking out from under a pile of trash that gave him pause, and with a sinking feeling Brennan pulled the body out. Eli had not only been dead for at least a day or so, but it was clear to anyone who looked that the harmless old man had been viciously beaten to death.

It suddenly hit Brennan as he knelt over the broken corpse, breathing hard in shock, that this whole thing was serious and that the absolute worst in people was being brought out. He'd come from an environment where people had to look out for themselves, where alliances were formed and broken in a blink, deals struck and counter struck as fast as a number could be dialed. But there was always a rough code of honor, where those who preyed on the weak were taken out by their own. Where back street assassinations and shakedowns were the results of business.

To beat an old man to death simply for having an extra finger wasn't just plain sick, but went against every code of back street honor that Brennan had ever lived by.

Adam couldn't believe his luck. He'd been lobbying in Washington when he'd run into Charlotte Cooke, a mutant who could alter moral polarity and an old friend of his. She'd grown up in the last few years from a frightened, malicious child into a confident young woman who had found a place on Senator Langley's staff. On the face of it, Langley was very liberal in her views, but rumors abounded that she was a hard, ruthless and ambitious bitch. Charlotte seemed to admire her though, and Adam suspected that she and Langley were each operating their own agendas, using each other. Still, Charlotte was an adult now and could look after herself.

The upshot of running into the young woman had been that she'd been able to get him in to see Langley. And what a meeting that had been.

Victoria Langley was a tall slim blonde, graying gracefully and elegant to the bone. She projected sincerity and care but, knowing that politics was no place for weak, Adam wished for Emma's powers to try and ascertain what she was really thinking. However, Langley had opened doors for him, given him a platform to start talking to people in power, start offering proof that the hysteria was unfounded.

And confident in his own persuasive skills, a small platform was all he needed.

He hoped.

Jesse had spent hours poring over his accounts and drawing up plans.

Having come to the conclusion that power and influence were not areas where he was going to be able to do something, either through others or himself, there was only one option left open to him. Someone, somewhere, had decided that Noah was presumed dead, which at first sight had shocked Jesse to the core, leaving him staring at the screen numbly for an hour. Until he'd realized that the proxy certification of death had been signed off over month before the last time he'd met up with Noah himself.

As he put his plans together, tweaking here and there, he decided that the time had come to grow up and put idealism aside. He'd learned hard the last few weeks that there was little in the world that lived up to high idealistic standards, that he needed to take a leaf out of Brennan's book.

So he injected as much paranoia into his plans as he could possibly dredge up. Then, finally satisfied that it all looked good on paper, he turned his thoughts to pulling together a team to fulfill it. He needed them to be highly skilled, self-motivated, objectively neutral and loyal.

Enough money bought a hell of a lot. Even things that should never have been for sale.

Emma and Shalimar had found that people were willing to listen to anyone who would give them the hope of having normal lives. Most mutants just wanted to be left alone to live side by side with humans who saw no reason to treat them any different from anyone else. It was these mutants along with the humans that accepted them that banded together around Emma and Shalimar.

But things were getting unmanageable, and with a couple of the new arrivals vying for leadership with aggressive agendas, the two young women decided that they needed to take charge and put some order into the growing chaos.

So far, they had come up with a name - Freedom Fighters – and made the decision to split up in order to cover more areas. They already had a base of operations, the old sub-station where they were gathered now, and Shalimar would stay there, organizing training and direct operations with an eye to protecting the innocent and thwarting aggressive maneuvers by both human and mutant.

They decided that Emma would move away and continue to find others, those willing to join forces as well as those who would give support from their day to day lives. On top of that, she'd also be keeping in contact with Adam, who was making in-roads into places that counted, and between them they would set up neutral meeting ground between human and mutant, with Shalimar's group providing security.

Immediately they announced their plans the most vociferous dissident in the group, a feral by the name of Vernon, ripped it apart. "We should be showing them that we're a hell of a lot more powerful than they are! They should be trembling at our feet, not the other way round!"

Shalimar smiled sweetly and prowled forward. "If you feel like that, honey, you shouldn't be here, you should be with the backwoods psychos arming up to nuke half the planet. That'd probably do it." She'd taken his stock the first time he'd spoken against her. He was some kind of dog, probably a wolf feral, and if she had her animal psychology right, he could be taken care of if he knew who was boss. She lowered her voice to a growl. "Or you could do things my way, which will give most of the world a chance."

He responded to her challenge, green eyes flashing gold, leaping forward to teach the bitch a lesson through sheer brute force. But Shalimar had years of experience that Vernon clearly hadn't. A boot below the belt, a kick in the head, and she was all over him, one hand throttling, the other ready to gouge his eyes out. "Uncle?"

Vernon nodded, surrendered, and she let him up to take himself off to lick his wounds in a corner. A little later, when the tension had relaxed somewhat, she went to talk to him.

"I could use you if you'd stay," she offered.

"Pity offering?" he asked, clearly ashamed.

She shrugged. "You're still here. You could have taken off."

"Nowhere to take off to."

She smiled and crouched down next to him. "A very good friend of mine said something similar once. It took him a long time to realize that he was already home. You don't have to be that stubborn. You're good with people, they'll follow you, and I need someone I can trust to help me. I can't do all this by myself."

"Hah! After they saw me get my ass kicked by a little girl?"

"That doesn't matter. I've been trained to fight, been fighting since I was fifteen, and that's a lot longer than I'll ever admit to. We'll have you trained up in no time, and when those people out there see that you can do it, they'll have more confidence that they can do it too."

Vernon took a breath. "Okay, well, I'm not a yes man, you know that?"

"I wouldn't want one. I'm not perfect and I need other viewpoints. Ollie has also agreed to help and with his Special Forces training and your people skills, we'll knock 'em in to shape in no time."

"But he's human!" Vernon protested.

"Yes, and so are a lot of our people. Deal with it, okay?"

Hesitating a moment, Vernon finally nodded. "Dealing. But what about the others then? Moleculars, psionics and elementals? They're different from ferals. And humans. Different advantages and disadvantages to take into consideration."

"That's where my experience comes in. I have some understanding of a few different types, so we'll assess and deal with as we can."

Emma watched the exchange and was confident that Shalimar could be a good leader. She'd spoken at length with Ollie, a large down to earth man who spoke little but said much when he did, and she was confident that he could keep the two volatile ferals balanced.

When she asked for volunteers for her own group, she wasn't surprised to find that the small handful that stood with her were a mix of humans and mutants that were not given to fighting. But she was surprised to find a husband and wife team joined her, a couple who were experienced soldiers, a resource that Shalimar would do well to keep hold of. Jeff was a molecular, could change his body into any base metal with reach, while Julie was a mere human but with a deadly line in kickboxing and street fighting.

"You'll need some security and protection," Julie pointed out, and with Shalimar giving her that 'don't you argue with me, missy,' look, Emma really couldn't find it within herself to object.

"Be careful, Shal," Emma said as she hugged Shalimar goodbye. They'd be in contact of course, but the psionic had a gut feeling that they wouldn't be seeing each other again any time soon.

Shalimar seemed a little uncertain, probably thinking that the younger woman was over-reacting, yet always willing to return a hug and cater to needs for reassurance. "And you too, sweetie."

They broke apart, and Emma rubbed the finger where her ring had been. "I still feel naked without it," she said.

"I know," sighed Shalimar. "But they're useless with Sanctuary's computers trashed, and they're too easy to identify us by. "

"I know, but I kind of feel like I'm casting off alone."

Shalimar shook her head. "I'm always here, you know that. And we're in contact with Adam and the boys."

"Sure," said Emma backing away to where her small entourage waited. "Be seeing you then."

Shalimar smiled and watched her until she was gone from sight.

"Welcome."

Eckhart nodded his acknowledgement of Morrisen's greeting as he took his seat on the Inner Circle for the first time. The group of maybe a dozen politicians and businessmen from different walks was ruled by Morrisen, and controlled not only the US government from the shadows, but also a good many other governments by proxy.

"William," Byrnes said, "Mason has some knowledge of our little interloper that you may find interesting."

Morrisen turned Eckhart, with a questioning look.

"Yes, I used to work with him some years ago." That much was true, at least, and Eckhart liked to keep his cards close to his chest. "Is he causing a problem?"

Morrisen looked speculatively at the poker-faced Langley. "Not for much longer," he said with a cruel smile as he took a drag from his long Havana. "Not for much longer at all."

Chapter 4: Minus 10 Months  
-10 Months

Proxy Blue stared from the monitor with her normal sarcastically knowing smile as if waiting for her audience to pay attention before launching into her diatribe. "It seems the Angels have fallen to earth and brought hell with them. Following on from last weeks shocking destruction of the California and Florida Nuclear Power plants, the rest of the US grid has had difficulty picking up the slack. Today, the plants in Dakota and East Virginia joined them, suggesting that the rest of the national grid look to its own before trying to stretch themselves too far. Add to that the Tsunami that hit Japan at the beginning of the month, earthquakes in Europe and Siberia, as well as anomalous hurricanes across most of the Southern hemisphere, and one could think something almost freaky was going on."

She cocked her head as if listening to something. "We all know that the media are blaming the Angels of Vengeance, but I wonder how many know that their leader is human? This reporter has it on the very best authority that DNA has been gathered that is one hundred per cent certainly from Mr. Big, and that he has no genetic deviations from the norm. Of course, there is the small matter of finding likely people to test for that DNA. It could well be quicker to grow a clone and see what it looks like. Hm, now there's a thought. Does anyone else wonder why the Senator with the foot fetish, and you all know who I mean, has suddenly bowed to a scandal and resigned? Never bothered him before. The plots thicken, gentle people, so keep on cluing me in."

When Byrnes was forced to resign his senate seat due to those unfortunate pictures that mysteriously appeared on the web, alongside a little peer pressure, Eckhart was quietly confident that it would be he who would be taking the fat man's place as Morrisen's right hand. Byrnes had no business empire or influence to keep him in the Inner Circle, so his seat there was forfeit when he resigned. Knowing this, Eckhart had lobbied hard for the position and made no secret of his maneuvers against Byrnes, understanding that it was the way things were done in this particular political arena.

He was not disappointed.

He also had a strategy in place to usurp Morrisen and was quite sure that the other man knew it, such was the nature of the game. The trick was to use each other to the fullest, yet have things ready to oust the other at a moments' notice.

There was also another interesting development. One of Langley's pets had turned out to be an old friend of Adam's. A friend who was easily persuaded to do what was in her own best interests once a little pressure was applied. And a friend that Eckhart himself was embarrassingly familiar with. Adam would shortly be firmly under the Inner Circle's thumb, although Eckhart thought that Charlotte Cooke herself would turn out to be a threat.

Until Langley informed the circle that Ms Cooke would be dealt with. To demonstrate, she introduced her newest pet, Dale Smith, who until that moment had stood behind Langley in the guise of Charlotte Cooke. Then her features shifted to become a blank, curiously unfinished face. Another mutant then, and in politics, an extremely useful one.

Sitting on the terrace in the sunlight, Adam enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Things were going well and, although he felt as if he were fighting a machine behind the faces, he was talking to more and more people who were listening, he'd already run a couple of seminars and presented a paper. Things still didn't seem to be moving in the right direction yet, but that would certainly take time because, for all that the mutants were the oppressed, the humans had good reason to fear them. For many humans, the only known encounters with mutants they'd had had been violent or violating and, like a beautiful white silk blouse that has a small red wine stain at the collar, people will view the entire garment as ruined. So they saw all mutants based on the few hostile ones they'd known. An enormous yet, to Adam, a not insurmountable hurdle.

On a lighter note, his four protégés were being remarkably successful in the areas they'd chosen to work, and with Jesse's team up and running, they had a central communication network and information exchange. Even working independently of each other they made a team to be proud of.

A shadow fell over the table, and he stood to greet his lunch guest with a genuine smile of pleasure. "Charlotte, I'm so glad you could make it."

"I couldn't refuse, Adam." She smiled sweetly, perhaps a little too sweetly, but Adam was quite certain that all that was behind them. She sat down and glanced at the menu before asking, "So what do I owe the honor?"

"Can't a friend just invite another friend to lunch?" he smiled. "Besides, I wanted to thank for your help."

"Anything to help the mutant cause," Charlotte replied, looking at him bemusedly. "You know that Langley wants you on her staff."

Adam nodded. "Yes, she's made her offer perfectly clear. But I can't be seen to throw my lot in with one senator, no matter how altruistic they may appear to be - which I don't for a moment believe she is, by the way. Not if I want to get enough support to reverse the course upon which we seem to be embarked."

Charlotte leaned over and gently, yet firmly, touched Adam's hand. "Oh, but I'm quite certain I can change your views on the matter," she said. Adam was helpless to do anything but agree.

Shalimar's Freedom Fighters were shaping up well and small groups went on regular patrols, extending progressively further away from their base of operations as, in dribs and drabs, others that had encountered Emma's group came to join them.

Inevitably, the one big group again became unmanageable and too central so, keeping the current base, Shalimar sent large groups further afield to set up small outposts. The further out these satellite bases sprang up, the more people came, the closer proximity making it easier to make the decision to join. The majority only ever pledged support from their existing lives, especially the humans, but those without permanent homes or decent jobs were more than willing to up roots and move into the bases. Shalimar was tired much of the time now, even her excessive energy running low, but Vernon and Ollie stopped her overworking, and at the end of the day, she was proud of every single one of the people she met.

The other, far more disturbing, reason that there was a significant influx of people joining arms was the AV's. The Angels of Vengeance were those mutants who wanted the humans punished and destroyed as much as the human extremists wanted the mutants destroyed. Initially, Emma had thought they were just misguided until she talked to one and found such a wall of pain and rage that there was no chance of making them listen. The mental violence had been so extreme the psionic had been physically sick, Jeff having to carry her away in his arms while Julie looked like thunder.

The sad thing was, the human extremists were those that had suffered at mutant hands, and likewise, the AV's were those that had suffered at human hands. And neither would ever give way.

Emma for her part, was finding it increasingly easy to find people who were willing to listen to her. No one, not human nor mutant, wanted their lives ruined by a war that was, despite what the politicians said, raging out of control. While she sent many to Shalimar, a few chose to remain with her and, taking notes from her feral friend, Emma soon split her own group up to work in tandem with Shalimar's groups. A handful of volunteers even went as ambassadors to the tiny groups in other countries, helping to form a united force and, more importantly, a united voice.

Jesse was grinning as Shalimar signed off. She was clearly having a ball, and even though dark rings shadowed her eyes, her excitement was genuine and infectious. And Adam had been high as a kite last time they'd spoken too, convinced that in-roads were being made in establishing talks and turning opinion.

Jesse himself had a meeting with Brennan in a day or so, which he was looking forward to since it would mean he'd get out into the fresh air. He had his team in place in various locations, mostly in the States and Canada, although there were a couple of people further afield. With his borrowed paranoia in mind, only Jesse had met each one personally, vetting and setting them up, and they each worked independently with specific goals.

The computers Jesse'd had installed in those locations all fed back to his Central Control, but that meant that he barely set foot outside the basement flat he'd set himself up in. He was finding it increasingly difficult to get out of his control chair and take care of himself, even now making a mental note to shave before meeting with Brennan.

But it was all worth it. Money and information was diverted to areas that needed it most, whether it be one of Shalimar's teams or Emma needing flights and false ID for one of her team. Even sending it to those who would use it wisely in areas where governments or bandits or even revolutionaries were withholding aid for whatever reason.

It was like playing god in some respects and. daily, Jesse had to tell himself that he was not, that he did not need more power for self-gratification, although that too was becoming ever more tough.

His team's reputation was growing hourly, and where initially Jesse and his team had started out having to take hits while trading for snippets, now information was flowing almost non-stop. They had a policy of not paying for information, only trading byte for byte, so that what they got was pretty reliable, and Jesse sifted through the lot, putting bits and pieces together in order to see bigger pictures.

He was tough on his close friends too, making all of them, including Adam, trade information with him. Wouldn't want anyone accusing his team of favoritism, even though it was known that the Cyberteam didn't deal with extremists and AV's.

The Cyberteam's network had two faces, the topside dealing in information and producing cash and supplies while the underside appropriated it all, stealing via diverted funds and altered bills of lading. But, as all policy decisions were down to him, and especially with the rising frequency of conflicts of interest, that feeling of power just wouldn't stop growing.

When Brennan met with Jesse at a café that was still running, an old generator powering the place and nailed up boards replacing once spotless chrome and glass windows, he really couldn't tell which one of them looked worse. Jesse was buzzing, probably on a caffeine high the way he was inhaling the stuff, and his disheveled and gauntly pale state behind his sunglasses was probably more to do with neglect than anything more dangerous. At least he'd shaved.

He knew he looked bad himself, but his natural cynicism had taken a blow. Being cynical, even outrageously pessimistic at times, meant that he was rarely disappointed and mostly pleasantly surprised, which had previously helped him on his merry way through life. In recent weeks however, his by now cynical pessimism was being regularly exceeded by reality, and that was depressing him more each day.

Up until now he'd been one of Jesse's main sources of information, but he needed more than that, something to keep reminding him he was alive, that this wasn't all a nightmare that wouldn't go away. He needed something to give him faith in his own ability to make a difference.

He listened to Jesse's proposal, considered it, countered it and shook on a gentleman's agreement.

An agreement that meant Jesse now had a field agent that extended his appropriation section to the more physical acquisitions. as well as a mother hen that would pop in occasionally to make sure his fridge was stocked and that he saw sunlight. And Brennan now had many an opportunity to have fun with his own particular talents, which gave him a new lease of life and began to help focus his goals.

As he only did part-time work for Cyberteam, in order to maintain and expand his resources Brennan found himself running a lot of those resources himself. He built his own team of thieves with a strict code and traded goods and information in exchange for taking on Cyberteam jobs.

He quickly found that he'd taken too much on, couldn't be in more than one place at once and needed a lieutenant. One girl in particular came to his notice. Down to earth and an honest thief, only ever out to make money for herself, Kathy Lee became his Capo, taking charge when he was away on his solo missions and soon becoming a little more.

Chapter 5: Minus 09 Months  
-9 Months

Proxy Blue looked out from the screen as snarkily cheery as always, that electronic glint in her eye somehow a little duller today. "The movers and shakers are moving and shaking right now, as the natural disasters and sabotage continue to escalate.

Elsewhere, the disgraced genetic modifications company, Genomex, has launched a new product, something called the Flexible Sub Dermal Governor 2022, complete with variable control. Or to you and me, the SGFlex. So, what happened to the other 2021 versions, and where are the lab rats used to make the thing so advanced? And was there any such thing as a non-flexible version? In such trying times as these, why is there a price tag so high only a few people can afford it, instead of being a standard issue neutralizing mechanism? And guess what? The senate has endorsed using them at will. No licenses, no rights, no laws.

"The entire exposure of Genomex as the foundation of all mutants forced its stocks to collapse and has initiated a takeover by LexMor. Take a guess which conglomerate LexMor belongs to, although interestingly enough Mason Eckhart still retains the helm at Genomex. The timing also coincided with the abrupt changes in White House staff, not to mention the Cabinet re-shuffles in Downing Street and the Russian Premier going down with a sudden case of pneumonia, to cite some examples. Many of these changes involve the insertion of new staff with connections to companies run by a small group of backbench senators, one of which owns LexMor. Coincidence?

"Mutant in-fighting is causing some consternation all round as two major factions seem to be clashing regularly. The AV's and the Mutant Freedom Fighters can't seem to get along. Maybe someone thinks they'll take each other out and save the rest of us the trouble. After all, this could have been the catalyst for the discovery and subsequent decimation of the mutant underground. So many mutants were caught that camps, or to use that politically correct quaint colloquialism, 'freak farms', to contain them have been set up. But how do you contain people that can walk through walls and manipulate minds? Keep the stories coming, fair citizens; my job security is ensured."

Mason Eckhart was fuming as he watched Morrisen's people swarm all over his work. The only positive points he could see were that at least the government contracts were more secure than they'd ever been, and his own place as Morrisen's number two was safe for the moment. However, there were secrets buried deep within Genomex that he did not want anyone discovering, let alone that megalomaniac.

He recognized the move for what it was, of course; a way of bringing him to heel because, without Genomex, he would go the same way as Byrnes. Eckhart supposed he should be flattered that Morrisen thought that he was that great a threat and ally. He just needed to make sure that LexMor found nothing of note to send back to Morrisen. Which was why he'd given them the SGFlex, something he'd been planning to keep for his own use, but which turned out to be an effective diversion.

Not only did it neutralize, but also gave fine control to whoever had the master controller, it's neurotechnology latched on at the sub-molecular level in order to configure itself to the individual in question, enabling partial use of powers as well as more mundane location boundaries and the like. A beautiful device that he was proud of and resented having to give away, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

One thing he was quite certain of, however; he would eject Morrisen from his throne of power if it was the last thing he did.

For once, Emma was grateful that her powers had become so well developed over the last few years. Her mental shields were immensely strong now, blocking out the thoughts and feelings of those around her, which was good because, so much of the time, what she was getting these days was sharp, strong and dark. Resentment was growing fast, as well as anger and terror.

She'd already seen some psionics go crazy from the sensory assault, especially among those who were suffering growth spurts in a time where there were no sanctuaries to which to escape and take the time build mental defenses.

With the AV's outrageous rampages ongoing and increasing, the initial influx of people who wanted the middle ground had vanished and Emma was finding that those who would listen were rapidly growing fewer. Contact with Shalimar directly was becoming worryingly intermittent and routed through Jesse more often than not, as the feral and her teams were spending most of their time taking on the AV's.

And the AV's seemed to be the one group where the Cyberteam's information was thin on the ground. What they got was spot on but, unable to find an in further up the ladder, they were relying on ground level leaks which were often too late for effective action to be taken.

Jeff and Julie were of the opinion that Emma was too vulnerable to be out in the open so much and this seemed validated when the first of what was to be many meetings turned into a fight - or more likely an AV ambush. Emma had demonstrated her own offensive powers for the first time then, shaking the rest of her team who'd had no idea how powerful she really was, understanding then that she would only use it if she absolutely had to. She too had been shaken at the violence of the attack on her, the pain she'd been in and that she'd been pushed to using her power so harshly.

But she was also determined, and wasn't going to let a little physical pain stop her when she needed to get the far worse mental pain to stop.

The obliteration of the underground was devastating to the mutants, both in terms of practicality and morale, and depression hung like shroud among the mutant population.

Kathy and Brennan spent long evenings talking. It was only natural that, though the evening talks started out as de/briefings, they should turn to more worldly matters and eventually to each other. There was nothing so strong or perfect as love, it was simply mutual understanding and need, nothing more.

During one of their evening talks, after a couple of beers, Brennan talked about resurrecting the underground. But differently. Not like Adam had run it, one smooth operation which worked the most efficiently but was vulnerable, so that once one part had been discovered the rest just followed. But more like the slave underground railways, where each 'station' was compartmentalized, never knowing exactly where the cargo was coming from or going to. So that if one 'station' was discovered, the railway was simply diverted via another 'station'. A little more haphazard, but much safer.

They planned it out in the manner one does after some alcohol. But unlike most fantasies, this one was still alive in Brennan's mind the following morning. And with Kathy at his side rallying troops while he planned and organized, a new Underground Railway was born.

Chapter 6: Minus 08 Months  
-8 Months

Proxy Blue had a new expression on her face for once. It was almost disapproval. "Yesterday the Chicago Tribune printed a story that Genomex had proof that mutants were not on the same sentient scale as humans, due to the animal DNA spliced in. They may walk and talk, but that's all just programming, according to the report, and they're no more human than a complex organic robot. What do people think a human being is? And besides, do none of these people read Asimov? I feel almost insulted. Today, pretty much every other paper in existence has picked the story up, and well, the pen is mightier than the sword for a reason. Human rights are remarkably quiet, and animal rights have been quoted as saying that mutants are outside their pervue, that they simply don't have the resources. When it comes to ferals, I wonder where exactly they draw the line.

"Clashes between the AV's and Freedom Fighters are becoming fewer but far more vicious. If I were paranoid I'd think that maybe someone views the Freedom Fighters as a threat. After all, wasn't the AV's agenda to take down humans?

"And one last little tidbit. The psionic intern who claimed to be able to project people's thoughts into other people's brains, remember him? The same intern who last week threatened to expose corruption within the senate and the White House. Well, that was a story forgotten in a day as he was put into protective custody for his own good, and of course, with the National Enquirer backing him, any credibility was lost. It seems that last night, however, he had a nasty accident with a steak knife. I bet there are a few people breathing easier today.

"It's little snippets like this that make it all worthwhile, so keep them coming, kiddies!"

Lena McEnery looked up as her partner crashed into their office. "So, what's upset the FBI's finest today?"

"Darlene's been taken to interrogation for questioning!" Darius Johnson flopped into his chair. "I mean, she's just a gopher, and it's like they arrested my great aunt Ethel or something."

"Darlene?" Lena was astounded. "Why?"

"Grapevine has it because her hair is blue. Now that part I don't believe for a moment."

"And that makes her what, a suspect? A mutant? A conspirator?" Lena asked.

"No, but - and this part I believe, if not the reason for it - it makes her a suspect for Proxy Blue."

"Proxy - ? Oh, shit!" Lena slammed the desk with the palm of her hand.

"Exactly my thought," Darius said grimly. "So what do we do about it?"

Eckhart was not best pleased to see Adam welcomed into the inner circle, and had advised Morrisen against it. However, the ruling seat thought it could be amusing to have the two co-founders of the mutant movement here to express their views. Eckhart failed to see how that could be in the slightest bit humorous, but put up with it as one of the many he prices he had to pay, prices he was keeping strict account of. And he tolerated it despite the supercilious smile Adam had taken to wearing, secure in the knowledge that Adam was just a pawn in the Circle's games.

Emma's last contact with Shalimar had been fraught and heated, and had frightened the psionic no end.

Shalimar was telling Emma to run, that their main base had been compromised and, over the web-link, Emma could see the fighting approaching. She protested, suggesting they rejoin forces, but Shalimar negated that with a growl, telling her to run and stay low until Adam contacted her, that she'd get in touch with her once they'd relocated.

Emma hadn't needed her powers to know that the feral didn't believe that she was going to get out alive and she couldn't break the web-link even after Shalimar had switched her end off. It was only Julie's strong hand on her shoulder that eventually brought her back to the here and now.

Brushing angry tears aside, she told her people that like it or not, they were running to ground.

Chapter 7: Minus 07 Months  
-7 Months

It was a slightly somber Proxy Blue on the telecast. "Word has it that the AV's have destroyed the Freedom Fighters' headquarters, which certainly explains the rise in AV activity. It really doesn't matter what you think of the Freedom Fighters, the one thing I think we're all now discovering is that they kept the AV's in check. There's a rumor that the Freedom Fighters are regrouping and I for one hope that's true, because the human forces are woefully inadequate. They only seem capable of capturing mutants that don't want to fight.

"Some of you may have noticed an absence of Blueness the last couple of weeks. There are innocent people who are being arrested for treason and conspiracy, accused of conspiring to broadcast free speech. In other words, each one of those individuals is accused of being me. Well, they're not. The crime is a farce and I'm still here, back on the air. So all you newshounds out there, get those reports out of the pound and into my kennel."

Emma found herself running not only her own teams, but also Shalimar's. With most of the feral's command core missing in action, her people had made their way to join Emma, or otherwise contacted her, and quite frankly she was overwhelmed.

She'd never realized how much of an impact they'd made until she saw the underground press begging the Freedom Fighters to regroup and come back, pledging support. These were journals published by humans and mutants alike, and Emma wasn't sure she liked what the Freedom Fighters had become.

They'd never intended to become an army.

All they'd wanted was to help give mutants a chance. And now the official views held the humans as valiantly fighting the mutant menace, while the underground pictured the humans oppressing the mutant victims. It might have started off with someone propagating the former and be rapidly heading towards the latter, but right now things were in between.

With messages coming in from Adam via Jesse expressing sorrow at the loss of Shalimar and hope that she was still alive somewhere, Adam was also telling Emma to sit tight. But she couldn't just do nothing, so she had Shalimar's teams continue as they were, but with an altered brief where discretion was paramount. They needed to prevent and protect, yet try not to give humans cause to hate them more.

Brennan let himself into the basement flat of the run-down building that was apparently a part of the Kilmartin empire, glad for a day to rest and just chill for a while. He hadn't told Jesse he was coming, or that he intended to drag him out for the day, knowing full well that if he did the cyber geek would just plug himself into his VR work from which Brennan wouldn't dare tear him loose.

He called out that he was in and put some supplies in the fridge, pleased to note that this time hermit boy had actually used most of his last stock up. As he opened a beer and wandered into the main room, he was pleasantly surprised to find Jesse talking to Adam over the web-link.

"You should come over and visit," Jesse was saying. "It'd be good to share the goss over a beer."

"I'll be sure to take you up on that." Adam smiled. "Meantime, I'm going places here, and I'm hoping that I'll have enough influential people onside in a few weeks that we can get Emma's people meeting with them."

"That's great news!" Jesse paused before asking tensely, "I don't suppose you've heard anything on Shal?"

"You're the gossip bureau!" Adam snapped suddenly, before rubbing tired eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Jesse's face was hard, muscles clenching, "and don't forget, without contributions the gossip bureau doesn't exist - and that includes yours."

"I said, I'm sorry!" Adam gritted his teeth. "I haven't heard anything, but – Damn! Listen, I have to go. Ermintrude has issued a summons." He rolled his eyes, and Jesse smiled. Peace between them. "Say hi to Brennan for me," he finished up and the screen went blank.

There was something not right there, and Brennan felt the renewed need to keep his cards close to his chest when it came to Adam, one reason why he hadn't announced his presence. Just a gut feeling that was maybe just paranoia, but he'd learned to trust his self-preservation instincts.

Jesse closed off the connection and spun his seat around. He was virtually cocooned in monitors, servers and wiring, and Brennan really didn't want to think about the fire hazard. At least with Jesse's talents, it wasn't so big a worry that he'd be caught out, but still... "Didn't know you were coming today."

"I know," Brennan threw Jesse's jacket at him. "Grab your shoes and sunglasses, and let's get out in the sun."

"It's raining," Jesse objected. "How can I get sun?"

"It's more sun than you see right now. White is so not your color."

Jesse snorted and did as Brennan bade. "You don't look so shit hot yourself," he remarked. And Brennan knew that the younger man wasn't wholly kidding. He'd lost weight, was far too tired and couldn't remember the last time he'd changed his clothes. "Maybe it's your turn to start looking after me."

As Jesse winced at the dull gray light and muttered about its brightness as he put his wrap around sunglasses on. "I didn't ask you to nanny me, and I'm sure as hell not nanny-ing you."

"Jeez, you're getting crotchety in your old age," Brennan sniggered. "All that power and money at your disposal and you look like a bag lady."

Looking him up and down with an incredulous eye, Jesse retorted, "Pot, kettle and black mean anything to you?"

Brennan sniffed. "Nah." After a short silence as they walked to nowhere in particular, he asked. "Do you think we'll see an end to all this?"

Jesse hesitated slightly. "Do you want an honest answer?" Brennan hesitated in turn, before nodding.

"If we can keep going, the war will burn itself out. The trick is, not to let the fighting stop. Because even if Adam and Emma get to the peace table, while there are those in power who don't want mutants to have any rights then their work will fail. We have to take those people out of the equation or let the whole thing come to a natural conclusion."

Shocked, Brennan looked at his friend again. "And you were supposed to be the idealist."

Jesse laughed, and it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Lost that months ago. And you know what really scares me? There's a big part of me, a part I have to fight every day, that doesn't want it to end at all. Because I'm really doing something effective. In my own right. I can decide other people's destinies, who flourishes and falls, who lives and dies." He paused and stopped to look at Brennan, his face unreadable behind the sunglasses. "You run the Underground Railway, you must have some idea what I'm talking about."

Brennan had no idea what the younger man meant, only knowing that it wasn't good, that he was losing the person he used to know. But if he was realistic, he was changing too. "No, I don't understand, but see, my life has always been about fighting and taking, living for the thrill of it all, and so long as I can do I'll always have that. Your life has always been about fighting for control. Maybe now that you have it, and then some, it's a bitch to deal with."

"Yeah," said Jesse, continuing their walk. "For both of us."

They didn't know what to say to each other any more, and Brennan left earlier than he'd intended to.

Shalimar held Vernon in her lap while one of the others bound his gashed leg. They were in a prison where lethal fights were the norm, with over a hundred mutants squashed into one large room, and overlooked by open grilles through which guards watched over and taunted them. She had no clue where they were, only that they'd been taken by air for a few hours and that it was hot and humid here, with a staple diet of rice.

There was only one exit; one door, followed by a short corridor with gun slits in the walls, and then another door, ensuring that no ambush or escape was possible that way. People had tried and been shot down, shocking everyone with the AV's willingness to kill their own to keep the prisoners in line. They all had sub-dermal governors, the original kind, and Shalimar had to wonder where they all came from. No way that the AV's just had them lying around.

With Vernon and Ollie with her, a slightly bemusing indication that some of the other 'neutralized mutants' were likely to be humans, she felt a secure in her own space. But the occupants of this pit were half starved and in pain - not ones that could be organized into a revolt, even if there were a way to stage one.

She could only bide her time and hope that one day she'd have fresh air and daylight once again.

Mason Eckhart looked at his monitor in disbelief. LexMor technicians had actually managed to not only discover, but also decrypt and break open files that had been sealed by his best cyberpaths.

He could only pray that Morrisen's people were genetically clueless and didn't understand the contents of those files.

Chapter 8: Minus 06 Months  
-6 Months

Proxy Blue had lost her sarcastic smile, her expression becoming increasingly blank and dispassionate. "In a shocking precedence, it has been made illegal for psionic mutants to roam free. The legal blah, as we all know, says it's compulsory for psionics to be registered because of the fear of these mutants playing head-fuck. But read the small print, boys and girls, and you'll see that all registered psionics are to be shipped off to glorified concentration camps, and we all know what that's a nice euphemism for. Would this have been allowed to go through if we weren't under martial law? Wonder how many steak knives the inmates will be allowed in these freak farms. Tell me what's going on people. Proxy lives for news."

"So, Mr. Kane, Adam. What do you think of my proposal?"

"Well…" Adam paused as he thought the other man's words through. "William, I think your proposal needs a little work, although I'm with you in principle. But you know that."

"Yes, Adam, I do," said Senator Morrisen around his cigar. "I just needed to be certain."

With growing horror, Eckhart saw the reports that Morrisen must already have seen. The reports that translated all of his dark and secret files, the ones that exposed the damning fact that Eckhart himself was not quite human. The tests he'd conducted on himself during one his more misguided moments, the ones that had virtually destroyed his pigmentation and cellular regeneration abilities.

At best Morrisen would keep him around as a pet to laugh at. But he would not allow that, would never again have people laughing at him.

So he decided to take the only route that seemed viable. Retreat to one of his overseas holdings to regroup and figure out how to take back everything he'd lost.

Chapter 9: Minus 05 Months  
-5 Months

"So," said Proxy Blue, scowling slightly, "who was surprised that one of the most influential men in politics today turned out to be a mutant of sorts? Mason Eckhart has been ousted, and in the true tradition of war, a tradition for which the Nazi's were condemned, a tradition that goes back through history, to before the Vikings raped and pillaged their way through England's fair countryside, before the Roman's stamped their eagle on Europe, right back to cave men that fought over food, everything that had Eckhart's name on it now belongs to… wait, let me see... LexMor, Morrisen Corporation, Langley Finance, Genomex and a few others I could name. Wonder if dear Mason has figured that out yet.

"Actually, it seems as though an awful lot of mutants are having their worldly goods confiscated. Remember Dirk Van Hansen of the Van Hansen coalfields? He's a mutant. Apparently. Not even his own family knew. If fact, not even he knew, so he claims. He thought he just had a natural talent for finding coal. Apparently. If his birth certificate isn't lying he's a little old to be a New Mutant, but what the hell, it's a good excuse to appropriate finance. And given the mysterious re-routing of certain unhappy campers' funds, they're sorely needed to buy essentials such as caviar, champagne and oh, what a surprise, SGFlex's.

"And since when did mutants get arrested just for being mutants? Check out your local cop shop and you'll find out someone slipped a law through when no one was looking. Don't forget to send me postcards, kiddies. There's no beating those seaside pix."

The perimeter alarms propelled Jesse out of his VR world and into the real with a sudden shock. A quick glance at the security monitor and he leapt out of his chair to check the windows. His worst nightmare had come true. Even now, soldiers with gas masks were running from the peripheral barricades that had been set up with canisters in their hands. This was no random raid; they'd come here searching specifically for him, which meant they had a fair idea of what he was doing.

Reinforced glass was no match for high-powered rifles, and the canisters crashed through, releasing their poison. But he couldn't escape, not yet; his team, all his contacts - he needed to destroy everything that would connect anyone else to him, while preserving everything he'd put together. It was fortunate that he'd set up for various scenarios, his capture or death included.

He could feel the gas seeping in through his skin, and massed to try and buy himself some more time. But the gas still buried determinedly through, resulting in biting pain as it split his skin apart, forcing him to de-mass.

A few keys and his personal stores of information were locked and keyed for access only by particular people who might stay alive and free. A quick pre-prepared coded signal to his team with instructions on keeping a minimum-risk operation going without being compromised by forced diversification was sent out.

Phasing was worse. Not painful at all, but the gas was just there, inside, bonding with his cells. He could feel it, invasive and parasitic, and knew it was a gas that had obviously been made especially for him.

And then the final key. He hesitated over that one, as it would mean the end of his short but powerful empire, and that part of him he'd been fighting was screaming at him to die defending it. But there was more than his own selfish needs and wants here, other people who could carry on the fight, and he would much rather die defending them.

He pressed the key and fell to his knees as the gas attacked his nervous system, wondering if a three-minute time delay was perhaps a little much. But whatever happened, no one would get their hands on his work. He fell to the floor, and the last thing he saw were Doc Martens crashing in and stopping an inch from his nose.

Brennan knew he'd never get that picture out of his mind. He'd arrived in time to see soldiers wearing gas masks dragging Jesse's limp body out of the flat and bundling him into the meat wagon. But the thing which would always stay in his mind was the fire that started suddenly in the basement and reared up to consume the entire building, sending soldiers and government tecchies screaming as they were ruthlessly immolated for daring to violate one molecular's sanctuary.

Cursing violently, he left the scene. He didn't know how to get in contact with Adam or Emma, but in any case his first priority was to sever any and all connections that either of his teams had with Cyberteam, for their own protection. Until someone in Cyberteam broadcast a universal all-clear, they had to be considered compromised.

Mason Eckhart stood in the middle of a burnt and barren space, looking somberly at what had been his smallest and most out of touch center, hiddeb in the heart of the hard, wind blown deserts of the Sudan. Razed to the ground.

He'd found every possible haven destroyed or taken over by Morrisen, or Langley or one of the other Inner Circle members. He'd tried staying in hotels, and then motels, but only hard cash was acceptable in most places, of which he had none. And he'd found out the hard way that his credit cards were blocked.

He had nowhere, and no one to run to. Except maybe one, one who might accommodate. Equally, that one person might kill him, but at least that person's hatred was honest. Perhaps it could be made to see reason.

He had one last favor he could call in that would get him to where he needed to be. But then he would truly have nothing but the clothes on his back.

What a joke.

"Emma!"

The psionic stood still, halting mid-word the discussion she was having with one of the patrols. Julie came to stand next to her, fully aware that she didn't need to speak the words for Emma, but doing so anyway for the benefit of those without psionic abilities.

"I'm sorry. All reports indicate that the AV's terminated all prisoners. We didn't find her body among the dead, or any of her core team, but the AV's we caught were adamant that… well, I'm sorry."

"And those that we caught? What of them?"

"The usual."

"Of course." Most AV's were surprisingly easily converted to the Freedom Fighters, or at least convinced to step out of the war, go to one of the refugee camps - not the nicest of places, but the Underground Railway made sure they were clean and looked after, while Cyberteam kept supplies running in. A very few AV's, however, chose to commit suicide when caught. They were normally the extreme of the extreme, many of whom were too convinced that they had nothing left to live for.

"There's more," Julie said quietly. "I picked this up from coms on the way in." She held a piece of paper forward.

Emma's eyes were already blurring with tears at the knowledge that her best friend, hyperactive and wildly passionate in all things, must be presumed killed in action. The sorrow radiating out from those nearest to her was almost too much for even her shields to bear. "Read it for me," she said softly.

Julie cleared her throat. "Cyberteam have issued statements from different sections, all saying pretty much the same thing. Cyberteam Central Control has been destroyed, the team leader taken or killed. Without the unifying core, Cyberteam will no longer be able to perform as expected. They will, however, continue to provide services as and when feasible, and regular supply runs that were not directly coordinated from Central Control will continue unaffected. They thank you for your consideration in this matter."

"Jesse," Emma whispered, tears falling freely now, before she fainted.

Chapter 10: Minus 04 Months  
-4 Months

Proxy Blue regarded her audience with what seemed to be an air of contempt. "Word has it that someone has been cherry picking psionics on their way to the freak farms, building a little mental task force. Who could that be? Someone with official connections, obviously. But someone trying to climb the ladder? Or someone trying to consolidate what they already have? Scuttlebutt says that someone in Genomex got paid off. Watch this space.

"Talking of money, yet another rich kid bites the dust as the last of the Kilmartins was arrested last month for being a mutant and a dissident. Apparently they kept this one quiet because he was a key member of Cyberteam too. Well, I can personally vouch for the fact that Cyberteam is very much still alive and kicking, albeit going through structural changes - but aren't we all these days? Hands up those who think that kid's arrest has more to do with all that money and real estate now lining someone else's pockets?

"And how many of you out there are making any protest at these convenient little laws that keep cropping up? These little laws that could just violate the Constitution a tiny bit? Read it recently? Shame on you! Keep the scoops coming, ladies and gents, this girl is hungry."

The person, thing that Eckhart had come to see was living in conditions that almost had him turning on his heel. He had thought that Wally's accommodation would be slightly more up market, given the modest but ongoing compensation he received from Genomex. But perhaps here in a shantytown Wally found it easier to fit in, and right now, Eckhart was far too aware that a beggar couldn't be a chooser.

Wally was feral. The very first feral. A guinea pig who'd allowed his body to be experimented upon in exchange for money. They hadn't meant to change anything about Wally, only see if they could splice some dormant rat DNA into an adult human.

They could, and Wally's results had been instrumental in creating the ferals as they were today. Unfortunately for Wally, he got to spend the rest of his life looking like exactly what he was - a human and rat hybrid.

But at that point he'd been more naïve even than Adam, and the thought of putting a living person into cold storage had nauseated him just too much. So he'd made sure Wally got looked after. Wally had a kind of love and hate for him, his mind too simple for absolute hate when the object of that feeling also gave him kindness.

So, crossing his fingers that Wally might be able to give him some temporary shelter, Eckhart took a deep breath and knocked at the metal wall of the shanty where Wally lived, hoping that his… investment… was in a receptive mood.

Jesse had no energy left at all, hanging between the two soldiers and letting them carry his weight. Consciousness was at best intermittent, zooming in and out every second or three. He was bruised and bloody and doped up to the gills from their attempts to get information on the rest of Cyberteam and any other mutants, and he was quietly proud of himself that everything he gave them, all of it involuntarily, was about as useful as snow in Alaska. His recent lifestyle, and the electronic plan he'd put in place, meant that he literally knew nothing that was of any use to anyone, and the little he did know about Brennan, Emma and Adam, they never asked.

He grinned to himself, even giggled, though he suspected that was just in his head. Speaking of which, someone raised his head by his hair which probably should've hurt if it wasn't for the fact that everything else hurt more. Through his swollen eyes it kind of looked like Adam.

"I'll have him fitted with an SGFlex, and put him to work in one of the mines," said someone else. "A molecular of his caliber should replace at least one of automatons that worked down there before the AV's destroyed them."

"Good idea," the Adam person said. "He's not been working out recently and the exercise will do him good."

"Huh?" But his brain couldn't keep up anymore and chose that instant to switch to standby.

"Why did you have the AV's destroy so much?" Adam asked Morrisen once they were alone again.

"Excuse me?" The other man only hesitated an instant as he poured drinks for them both.

"Come on, William, I'm not stupid. I know that you're behind the AV's. Even Proxy Blue's been telling the world for the last few months if you know how to read between the lines. Frankly I'm surprised no one else has figured it out by now."

"Well." Morrisen handed Adam a drink and took a sip of his own. "It's that obvious, is it?"

Adam shrugged. "I think so. Not that I'm about to tell anyone; it's not in my interests to. But I would like to know why."

Morrisen shrugged. "Control of the AV's is not absolute. They do a lot of things without my specific say so. I consider myself more of a guiding force than any kind of leader. And as long as they run around frothing at the mouth, humans will be terrified of all mutants. It's their nature to tar everyone with the same brush. Cyberteam won't last long and, once the Freedom Fighters and the Underground Railway are beheaded, I can get rid of the AV's and we'll be left with a slave race. And as history from around the world shows, from Egyptian and Roman, through Chinese and Indian and even American, there is nothing so profitable - socially, politically and most importantly, economically - as slavery. The economy is in tatters due to the war and Cyberteam, and it's only right that they pay their dues."

Adam smiled wolfishly as he took mouthful of a warm liqueur. "Then I look forward to the day that they're all off the streets."

Chapter 11: Minus 03 Months  
-3 Months

Proxy Blue's sarcastic smile was firmly back in place. "Things are too quiet, people! I can tell you anecdotes about abandoned human babies getting adopted by the ferals next door, or the ATM Speedster who moves so fast to grab your money, you think the machine hasn't spit it out, or even the legendary mermaid that's been spotted in Central Park. Boring! Feed me!"

Adam accepted his change of seat to Morrisen's right hand with good grace, and kept in mind the promise that he would have not only Genomex, but LexMor at his disposal to conduct the research he'd always wanted to do, but not had time, money, facilities, or free rein to do.

He just had two small problems to iron out, and he'd be secure.

It was with a mixture of trepidation, excitement and relief that Emma waited in the old abandoned Mutant X safe house. She had Julie and Jeff with her as always and felt like a little girl with her mommy and daddy waiting for the school principal.

She was well aware that she'd changed a great deal in the last nine months or so, and it felt weird being here now. She was looking forward to seeing Adam, though, and relieved that he'd apparently organized things so that there was a chance for mutants to talk with those in power, under civilized circumstances.

A click, and steel shutters blocked doors and windows. Jeff's body turned dull silver as he threw himself at the door, making significant dents but unable to break it open.

White fog and gas was clouding the air, making them choke. Emma opened up her mind, focused tightly and hit those hiding in the walls with their worst nightmares. As Julie looked desperately for someone to beat up, Emma was thankful that broadband hadn't been necessary this time; she hated hurting such good friends.

Jeff continued to batter away, the door starting to give, but the gas was winning and seconds later all sounds of choking stopped as all three of them slipped into a drugged sleep.

"Hey," Kathy poked Brennan in the ribs as he took a break after setting the latest car of mutants along their way.

"Hiya," he smiled, reaching out for her, but she pulled away. "What's up?"

"Ah, I'm sorry Bren," she shrugged, "I'm going to have to take off for a while. Family problems, you know how it is. Be back soon though."

"Sure," Brennan said, thinking she was going to leave a big hole in things while she was gone, a possibility he hadn't thought about before. Yes, she scratched an itch in his personal life, but she did so much of the day-to-day administration and organization that he wasn't entirely certain that he could cope without her. Maybe he should help her make sure she wasn't gone too long. "Want me to tag along?" he offered.

"Nah. Tell you what, though, you could give me a lift out to Maxi's - the old scrap yard, you know it? I said I'd meet up there with a friend'll take me home."

"Want the company?"

She gave him an embarrassed smile. "Ya could say."

The short trip was full of their normal banter, but as they stood outside Maxi's sharing a hug and kiss, it started to rain.

Brennan pulled back laughing, and Kathy did too, but her laughter wasn't playful. The rain was a fire hose and, as Kathy moved away, it was aimed at him full force by soldiers. The water meant he couldn't power up and the pressure meant he couldn't keep his feet. Helpless, he was held virtually immobile against the fence that marked the boundary of Maxi's yard. He didn't feel the tranquillizer dart, only felt the effects as the water overcame him and he sank into sleep, uncertain whether the vision of Kathy collecting a wad of money was an hallucination or not.

Victoria Langley had been intrigued by Adam Kane, and would have considered courting him if Morrisen hadn't latched on to him. However, she was more curious about Adam's former pets, had been for a long time.

Previous to her political career, she'd been married one of the top men in the CIA. Of course, Harold had passed away a few years ago, right after he'd taken an early retirement. Fortunately for her. She'd met with one or two of Harold's operatives over the years, and one in particular had popped up on more than one occasion.

The younger Noah Kilmartin had caught her eye, dashing, charming and rich, although in recent years all that had changed. Apart from the rich part. And last she heard, official documents be damned, he was rotting away in some central African prison.

Noah could never have been hers, not with Harold around, and Harold was too valuable to risk her marriage. But now that the son had been swept under the carpet, as it were, she saw an opportunity. A couple of months should be long enough that she could make sure he was swept under her share of the carpet, yet not too long that he'd have starved to death or something equally undesirable.

With a little discreet investigation and a few favors traded, one filthy creature in chains dripped mud, dirt and other sludgy substances on the beautiful cream fur rug that adorned the hallway of her country house.

Her perfectly groomed afghan hound obediently at her side, she glided around the creature that came with two guards attached, examining him. He was lean, perhaps too lean, but stood straight and proud, his muscles strong and hard edged from hard labor. The SGFlex glinted dully at the back of his neck and blue eyes, although bloodshot and squinting, burned with defiance.

"For goodness sake, get the boy cleaned up, then we can see about his training. Raymond," she addressed a tall man waiting quietly by the door. "I want that boy as obedient as Princess." She stroked the afghan's head. "And you are responsible for making sure that happens any way necessary."

Chapter 12: Minus 02 Months  
-2 Months

"It's pretty hot out there right now," Proxy Blue announced, looking slightly gleeful. "Bad news for the mutants' teams, though - it looks like the humans win. But what will happen next? A quick look through the scorecard shows the AV's out of the game with an unexpected collapse just ten days ago. Mr. Big withdrew, let a little leak drip, and instant annihilation by our good troops who knew just when and where to be. Add to that the effective decapitation of the Underground Railway and the Freedom Fighters, bolstered by a Cyberteam that's frankly been quite shaky and intermittent the last couple of months, and the mutants are in disarray.

"And talking AV's, it seems they have, or rather had, a prison south of the Gulf somewhere. I'm told that there's no threat from that area, though, as a lynch mob… uh, I mean, a group of concerned citizens with Uzi's shot everyone in the place. How considerate of them.

"Hunting down mutants and shipping them out of sight, out of mind, is common practice these days, and there's been huge support for having them do the work to repair the damage they caused. But some people have taken to using the odd detainee for personal use. Remember those SGFlex's? They're commonly used in the work place now, but you can buy the deluxe version to have your very own pet mutant. If you want to see proof, then catch CNN's lunchtime bulletin when Senator Langley will be purchasing the very first license to own a controlled mutant. A molecular to repair her mutant-ravaged gardens. Apparently.

"Pretty forward at going backwards aren't we? Scandals, gossip and behind the scenes clangers, give them all to me, baby!"

Emma stared out of the barred window, trying to get a glimpse of sky above the gray walls that surrounded her limited view as she cradled her broken arm with bleeding fingers. She'd get no medical treatment as she was scheduled to be murdered today. They'd told her that. The way all psionics were gotten rid of.

With her special mental training she'd been able to resist the drugs, or at least enough that they didn't believe a word she'd told them. But she had a low pain threshold, and though she'd tried, she'd really tried, in the end, she'd told them anything and everything, begging them to stop. Her one pathetic attempt at saving herself from her own conscience had been mixing lies in, so that maybe, just maybe, she'd told sufficient lies that the truth she'd spilled would be hidden long enough for her people to realize and get themselves safe.

She hadn't seen Jeff and Julie since Adam had betrayed them all - and she had no doubt that he had. He'd been there when they'd thought she was unconscious. Knowing that, and knowing that she wouldn't be alive much longer, had given her strange feeling of serenity. The pain of her injuries was distant, and emotions were no longer a part of her.

So she didn't resist when they opened her door and pulled her down the hallway. She expected them to take her to the sickbay, the room where people were either got fixed up or killed. She was mildly surprised when they took her back to the interview room she'd gotten to know intimately. One last interrogation, then.

But no, she was shoved down into the hard wooden seat opposite a man she recognized from the news.

"They tell me you're a telempath," Senator Morrisen said as he lit a cigar.

Emma simply stared at him blankly. She was so used to the interrogations that it was habit to not answer questions for as long as possible.

"Ms de Lauro." Morrisen leaned forward. "This is not an interrogation. I simply wish to ascertain if you are suitable for a small project I have running. One where you would join a small group of other psionics and work for me. I can't promise that you won't end up back here if you don't fit in, but either way, it would be a, ah, stay of execution. I need a telempath, as the one I had was not suitable at all."

Emma blinked slowly. Morrisen was anti-mutant, therefore anything he was doing was bound to be detrimental to mutants, in which case she'd rather stay here and visit the sickbay. But, if she lived to fight another day, she could maybe find a way to fight back.

"Yes," she said eventually, the serenity settling heavy over her like an invisible shroud. "I am."

Brennan limped out of the meat wagon along with three others, all of whom were also elementals, and resisted the urged to squint and rub at his swollen face - not that the chains would let him move his hands by much. He kept trying to fight and kept being beaten down, but he was determined to keep fighting until the end.

They'd interrogated him, trying to get him to betray the Underground Railway, and he had no doubt that he'd given away far more than he ever wanted to know. The beatings and physical torture he could resist, but there was no getting round the drugs. The irony was, if he'd got caught it was Kathy who was supposed to have changed things so that any information that was forced out of him would be useless. And vice versa. There were two others in that loop too. Trouble was, with Kathy on the take, that whole damage limitation plan fell completely apart. The thought that he might've sent people to their deaths made him sick to the core.

Right now though, he was a little puzzled as to why they were at a power station. This was the Florida magnox plant, where one of the AV's had turned the entire core into granite. It was a huge station built into the hills away from the tourists.

They were led through corridors and up stairs until they came out onto a catwalk over a small cavern that held what looked like pods standing on their ends. Rows and rows of them. Hundreds of them. Wires and tubes running uniformly from them all while each pod contained a body. As they walked along and down more stairs, getting closer, Brennan could see that the bodies were writhing and emitting constant energy. Some pods looked like they were on fire inside, others had blue lightning running round, while still others had white webs or red laser effects inside.

And Brennan's personal demons leapt to the fore. He would die before letting them put him in one of those things. He wasn't scared of the pods themselves, but he was terrified of what those pods were doing.

He lashed out, yanking his chains violently, feeling them give slightly, grateful that they hadn't been made for moleculars, but the guards couldn't miss his angry movements. Brennan did his absolute best given the circumstances, even managed to make contact with a satisfying crunch of a guard's nose, but it was inevitable that a prolonged jolt from a taser would eventually shock him into submission.

Then he was locked down in a pod with no hope of escape. They cut his clothes away and left him there for a long while until the men in white coats arrived. He cursed them every which way while they hooked him up to tubes and wires, fiddled with his SGFlex, and ignored his tirade of threats and curses. They shut the pod and locked it before a humming told him it was activated. And an instant later, he was screaming as he was sucked dry from the inside out, his powers raging out of control within his tiny prison.

Jesse sat on the padded windowsill of the gym housed in Senator Langley's small country mansion, staring out at the pristine gardens and blue sky.

He didn't remember the destruction and war he'd come from, didn't give his origins any thought at all. He had everything he could ask for here, a suite of opulent rooms all his own, servants to obey his every whim, and expensive clothes. He knew he'd been sick for a while, but Victoria had given him the best care, even so far as a personal instructor to help him get into shape.

He remembered one time, while he'd been sick, he'd woken up naked in bed with just a sheet covering him. Victoria had been there then with a cool flannel, but he hadn't recognized her and scuttled over to the far side of the bed, telling her to leave him alone, rambling madly. She'd looked surprised and laughed.

"You thought I wanted you as a sex slave? Heaven forbid, boy, your imagination is far too vivid. On the other hand, you really shouldn't give me ideas."

For some reason, that comment bothered him although he had no idea why. He didn't understand the pitying looks the staff all gave him, didn't understand why they wouldn't talk with him over and above their duties. But Victoria always there, always wanted him to keep her company. Sometimes she would look a little disappointed. Usually after she'd asked his opinion on something. He didn't have any opinions. On anything. Didn't have many thoughts to call his own.

Sometimes, like now, there was a niggling feeling that something was wrong. But then Victoria would be there, or he'd seek her out, or if she were gone then Princess would keep him company. And the wrong feeling would go away.

Today she'd told him to wear the clothes he had on now. Told him that they were going out. This was the first time he'd be leaving the house since he'd been sick. He'd almost been getting jealous of Princess having her walks. He was a little nervous about going into town, because Victoria had told him that there were many people who weren't as fortunate as him, that might resent his nice clothes and things, that he should keep close to her, that he should smile and accept the certificate some pompous old bird was going to give them. That, when asked, he should show them his special talent.

Jesse had nodded obediently and was just now waiting for Victoria to tell him they were ready to go.

Shalimar was in a deep shock. She remembered gunfire outside, people shouting. They could see the guards falling away from the upper grilles, and for a few cruel moments the prisoners thought rescue had arrived. They called out to let their rescuers know they were there.

But all that happened was that guns pushed through the grilles and opened fire. Shooting fish in a barrel.

There was no one within reach to fight, so all they could do was take shelter behind those already dead. Someone outside found the doors, which were then opened, and those that were still living were cut down as they tried to push through.

Vernon and Shalimar both wanted to fight even though it was impossibility, so it was Ollie that shoved them both in the corner. And no one asked her opinion on the matter when Vernon suddenly cold-cocked her.

Stunned, she'd been unable to protest when she felt the bullets riddle Ollie's bulk, slam into Vernon, who looked at her and hissed, 'You will survive this, little girl. For us!' before blood red and gray exploded, ending his life. She'd screamed when bullets ploughed into her own flesh, but it was lost among the cacophony of shrieks and wails and whining bullets.

When the screaming and gunfire had stopped, she remembered people making their way partly into the room, opening fire here and there where perhaps they thought they'd seen movement. She'd kept still as possible under the bodies of her friends, biting her own knuckles to keep from so much as breathing too hard.

When they'd gone, she continued to lie still, frightened and shocked, until blood congealed in her hair, stuck to her face and hands, Until her own loss of blood made her faint and rampant infection gave her fever. Until the corpses around her started the process of rotting.

She thought she ought to move some day, but couldn't quite put thoughts into action. Then, much later, more people came. They swore a lot, and started moving the bodies, one by one. She would have fought them, would have tried to run, but she was too shocked and too sick.

So when a man lifted Ollie off of her, she only hoped he'd put her out of her misery as quickly as possible.

Chapter 13: Minus 01 Month  
-1 Month

Proxy Blue would have been better named Proxy Black, her colours darkened through navy as if in mourning. She looked exactly like what she was. A computer generated head talking blankly and unblinking. "With the war officially over, things are quiet, only the odd outbreak of violence quickly stamped out. There are still mutants out there, but there has been no sign of organised activity in recent weeks - unsurprising since, according to government sources, all key dissidents have been arrested and are awaiting closed trials, while mutant capture teams are growing increasingly proficient at catching the menaces.

"Those good people, who never let a war get in the way of their work, published this years Fortune Five Hundred. Take a good long look, people, at the politicians that made the top fifty. The top ten makes interesting reading too. And now that we have an outbreak of peace, don't let the goss stop."

Eckhart sat board stiff on the edge of the cot Wally had so kindly provided for him, trying very hard not to feel the germs and diseases that were infesting every pore.

It was driving him insane, the itching, burning, festering and desiccating his skin was going through now that his protective dermal covering was starting to break down, and he'd run out of any replacement. His eyeballs had fire ants crawling over them and his nose wouldn't stop running. In a bid to keep some part of his sanity intact, he let the newly insane part take over. The insane part that chattered and drivelled and threw up bits of memory, breaking them up and mashing them into one glutinous mass without form or identity, while leaving his body to rot on the cot.

His rational mind was cowering in the corner, biding its time, peeking out only when Wally brought in what passed for food. Morrisen must have felt insanely threatened by him to have made him public enemy number one and he couldn't step outside without fear of getting lynched. They left him alone here in the hovels, mostly because they were all so wrapped in their own petty worlds that they didn't really care. That, combined with a paranoid distrust of authority in the shantytown meant he was fairly certain he wouldn't be reported.

Things were settling now, though, and perhaps he'd soon be able to move about more. But what could he do? Human society had never cared for those who were different, and now they were positively obsessive about getting rid of them. That had to change. There were still mutants and humans out there who could bring that about, but they needed leadership. They wouldn't listen to him, but they would listen to five extraordinary people who'd spent far too much time meddling in his business. And with Eckhart himself on their side, they'd stand a far greater chance of succeeding if they used the stealth and cunning ruthlessness he was known for, rather than the idealistic and trusting manner that had failed so spectacularly.

He didn't even know if any of them were still alive.

But, his insane mind giggled, we know where to start.


	3. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Have used gender as commonly used in anime for Dale. (S/he, hir.)

The Middle  
XXXXXXXXX

Five rings there were, five rings of those with power, those that led all others.

They lay alone, untouched by the living since their bearers laid them to rest deep within a mountain as the world waged a war of human versus mutant. A short war, but vicious and decimating, no side able to take the mantle of black or white, all battling in shades of gray.

The mutant rebellion had been quashed. The ferals killed or caged, the moleculars enslaved in mines and quarries whose automated robotics had been destroyed. Elementals kept tethered in power stations and factories, providing the energy for humans to function, live and rebuild, while psionics and those with other powers too dangerous, or which simply didn't have any practical application, were killed out of hand in the global freak farms.

For once, humankind was united in a hatred that would last as long as the planetary desolation, and destruction that would last as long as there were mutants to exploit and destroy.

For those very few renegades and outlaws of both human and mutant kind who still believed in the right to live, a legend was growing, the story of a small, elusive group who even before the war, as well as during, helped mutants to escape horrific fates and to integrate into civilized society with humans who accepted who and what they were. A group who fought tenaciously for the right of mutants to live in peace alongside humans. Legend said that only the plain silver ring they wore could identify a member of that group.

But the rings had been carefully abandoned as their bearers chose to go different ways, take different paths, each believing they were fighting for peace and equality, yet never quite able to reconcile and unite through their own differences.

Now, the war was over and exactly a year had passed since the rings had been buried here beneath the ruins of Sanctuary. And one person took it upon himself to find each ring bearer and return the band of silver to them.

He was a man of no side at all, a man who, in the far distant past, had been scarred and beaten yet survived to rule is own ruthless empire. A man who was not quite human, yet not quite mutant.

A man who, before the war, had been known as Mason Eckhart but, now that it was over, no longer had a name to call his own.

The End  
XXXXXXX

Chapter 2: Month 1  
The End + Month 1  
Proxy Blue still retained her near black colouring and expressionless face, as she had done consistently for the last couple of months. "Everything may have stabilised on the surface, but mutant mania is still alive and well. With the majority of mutants in custody and the remaining gone to ground, jobs that had been created at the beginning of the war are now under threat. If you're not a mutant, then think about whether you could be considered a mutant collaborator, and yes, giving a mutant the time of day once does count. If you're not squeaky clean, be very afraid. Not even the secret services are safe. Two of the FBI's finest have been taken for questioning and four in the CIA. We're verging on something approaching the Salem witch trials or the McCarthy hearings so watch your backs whoever you are. And don't forget, if you have news, people need to know."

"Gossip among the staff has it that you've been working overtime in the library, Adam. Anything interesting?"

"Just research, William," Adam smiled. "Trying to figure out a vaccine to stop any more anomalies being born."

Morrisen raised an eyebrow, and almost dropped his cigar. "Anomalies? I'd rather thought they could be better termed as, ah, exploitative resources. We want them contained, not destroyed."

"Like Victoria has her exploitative resource on a dog leash? Literally? That, William, is where we must differ. Look at the amount of pain and suffering they've caused. It was my mistake that caused it all, and it's my responsibility to eradicate that mistake. The good news for you is that it'll be a very long time before anything effective can be produced. Unless I have access to somewhere like Genomex or LexMor, I'm starting from scratch."

"I wish I could help," Morrisen sighed, "but it would be politically very unwise to be seen having business relations with you outside the Inner Circle. People might get all sorts of wrong impressions. A Senator who has always been anti-mutant, consorting with the creator of said unfortunates? You can see where I'm coming from."

"Yes, William," Adam smiled through gritted teeth. "I can see exactly where you're coming from."

Seven young women sat in a circle with their backs to the central column that connected them all together. The chairs were comfortable and although the probes that surrounded their heads kept them immobile, they were not painful.

They could only ever work in unison but were never permitted contact, each having their own area partitioned off with reflective glass. Opposite the chair, each had a small cubicle that contained a bed and necessary facilities, and there were always fresh meals waiting when the machine released them.

None of the young women knew what the others so much as looked like, but their knowledge of each other was far more intimate than the designers of the machine, Genomex, could ever have imagined.

Very rarely, if one of them became ill or injured, they would be replaced as quickly as possible with another of the same or similar function and the rest of the Circle would compensate for the new one's strengths and weaknesses. It seemed that replacements were hard to find as it usually took days before the new girl was in place, and during these times the six who were waiting would be taken individually to the gym, the pool or the garden. Their owner was most concerned that his Psionic Circle remain as healthy as possible outside the machine, which in turn monitored their vitals at all times that they were connected.

The seven functions covered all the usual psionic bases, projection, precognition, illusion, kinetic, cyber, empath, and telepath and, when combined, they could accomplish so much more than as individuals. Both their shields and their influence had a strength and range that expanded exponentially according to each woman's power, and with psionic beacons at strategic points they could form a psionic web that covered half a continent.

The power, the feelings that came to each woman were addictive. None had wanted to be here, only accepting it to stave off an otherwise inevitable execution, but once they'd had a taste of the machine they never wanted to leave.

And Emma de Lauro was no exception.

Lena McEnery stared hard at her partner's empty chair, willing him to barge in and fill it with his big black lanky frame.

She'd been willing the same thing for the last few weeks to no avail. He'd been taken down for questioning related to an unspecified crime and he was still down there. It was far, far too long.

Just as she was thinking that exact same thought for the thousandth time that day, two of her colleagues came in with empty boxes. Their eyes showed sympathy, but their postures and curt words told her that they were strictly on company business.

"We're here to clear Agent Johnson's desk. Please don't touch anything and please don't interfere."

Darius wasn't coming back then. "Sure, I'll get out of your way, need to grab a sandwich anyway." She slipped her coat on. "Left it a little late if you're looking for evidence. He been sent home?"

"Orders. Agent Johnson has been detained indefinitely," she was told calmly.

"Shit! What the hell is going on around here!" she muttered. "Look, I'll see you later. Second thoughts, I may just hit the bar."

Just slightly harried looking, Lena left the building and headed home. She was well aware that if Darius was in closed custody then, as his partner, she would be being watched. That was standard operating procedure. She'd been living under that assumption since Darius had been escorted from the office, although he obviously hadn't told them a huge amount or they'd have been all over her apartment by now.

She just needed to get out from under the eye of the Bureau, then she could make a run for it. Having spent the last seventeen years as a field agent, and damned good one, she knew how they worked and was able to escape any surveillance coolly and calmly, so that they didn't know she was gone until after the fact.

Fortunately, in order to keep the little secret she and Darius shared, she only needed her Palm Pilot. Her home PC was clean, and she'd already ensured that Darius' Pilot couldn't get access to their hidden server. Having a good idea that they were just waiting for her to lead them to it, she resigned herself to being on the run.

With his rational mind hiding away so that it wouldn't have to acknowledge the dirt and dust and microscopic living things that were crawling all over the vehicle, Eckhart persuaded Wally to lend him his old Roadster, complete with a tank full of gas. It was enough to get him out to Langley's country residence and back, a place he'd been to on one or two occasions when he'd been in favour. He didn't dare visit while she was there, and was reluctantly prepared to camp out in the clapped out old banger for a couple of days at least.

As luck would have it, however, he passed her car on its way from the estate and since he only saw the chauffeur and Langley herself, he was reasonably certain that the Kilmartin boy would be inside the house still.

He'd scoured the news as carefully as possible given his lack of computer access, and Kilmartin had appeared here and there accompanying Langley to one function or another, a showpiece that she trotted out on every public occasion. Of the other three members of the defunct Mutant X there was no sign, and he was not yet prepared to deal with Adam.

Straightening himself up as much as possible, he prepared to bully his way into the small mansion.

Jesse was working out when the bemused butler came to tell him he had a visitor. Raymond, who'd followed the butler up, suggested that Jesse showered, changed and met his guest in the living room, and Jesse nodded and smiled, grateful that someone had control of the situation.

Without Victoria he was lost, and wasn't used to having to make decisions for himself. Wasn't normally permitted to. With Raymond apparently in control, he decided that this was one of the handler's refresher tests. The quiet man did that occasionally to make sure Jesse didn't need any further training, something he abhorred intensely.

Half an hour later he entered the living room to find his guest using the computer in the corner. He wasn't sure he liked this visitor using it because it was his. Victoria had given it to him as a present. But since he wasn't allowed to make a fuss, he waited patiently for his guest to notice him.

Maybe fifteen minutes passed before the stranger turned slightly and jumped violently as he spotted Jesse. "Er, Mr Kilmartin, there you are."

Jesse just stared at him. The man was scruffy and dirty, the thick scarf covering his face falling down to reveal a tired, haggard face with broken glasses. And his skin - it wasn't just peeling, but blistering and broken out in sores. It looked painful, and made him feel sick.

"Mr Kilmartin, I er, I know we've not exactly been on the, er, same side of the fence, as it, er, were…" The man kept touching his temple, and squinting as if battling some internal force. "But I, ah, came to persuade you to take up, er, to take back control of, uh, well, you know, your, ah, electronic highway robbery mantle, er, am I making any sense?"

Jesse blinked and decided that the man was clearly insane. "Not really," he said carefully, wondering what repercussion might eventuate for his lack of understanding. Victoria could be vicious, but her anger rarely lasted more than a few moments and her contrition made it all better. Raymond's anger was far more enduring and hurt less, but for a lot longer.

"Do, er, do you know who I am?" the strange man asked, coming closer. Jesse flinched from him, but stood his ground. "Mason Eckhart? Genomex?" A long pause, then. "Adam Kane?"

"No." Jesse really didn't like this man, and didn't like this test because he didn't understand it. Didn't know what was expected of him, and he'd learned that not knowing was never a good thing.

Eckhart looked closely at him for a long time, making Jesse very uncomfortable. "You need to come, er, to come with me…" he started, but trailed off uncertainly, rubbing at his head with gloved fingers.

"I can only go with Victoria," Jesse told him matter-of-factly. That should explain everything, but he felt the urge to clarify. "I don't want to go anywhere unless it's with Victoria." Because in a world where his wants and needs were dictated by someone else, that was the only thing he was sure of.

There was a long awkward silence, before the strange man turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Then a hand on Jesse's shoulder made him stiffen in apprehension.

"Good boy," Raymond said softly, and Jesse smiled in deep relief.

Shalimar woke to the smell of frying food, and for the first time in a long time, her stomach grumbled. Paulo laughed at the clear sound and took a plate from the cook, offering it to her. Fever and deprivation had taken their toll on her formerly fit body, although she was working hard to rectify that, and she took the plate with a grateful smile, pulling herself upright against the tent wall to eat it.

The men who had pulled her out of the bloody cesspit had taken care of her pretty well. They were nomadic, and well practised in some of the medical arts alongside some excellent ranger skills. Fortunately, the two bullets that hit her arm and thigh barely scraped muscle, but it was the infections that had caused the fever, though chances were she'd already been sick from the conditions of the place before the massacre.

They'd looked after her as one of their own and she hadn't yet figured out why, didn't know why they hadn't dumped her body, or left her at one of the aid-stations. They'd taken and burned all the bodies at the prison in one long funeral pyre, but any compassion she might have thought her rescuers had died when they told her brutally frankly that to leave that many corpses rotting in one place was to invite disease and pestilence to the area. Better the place be cleansed and used by others another day.

One of the most peculiar things about the men, other than that there were no women with them, was that they had never knowingly met a mutant. There simply weren't any in this part of South America or, if there were, they were few and far between. They'd assumed that the bodies they'd burned, because they all looked human, having been neutralised, were human.

They'd had to ask what the thing was in the back of her neck and, slightly out of it at the time, she'd told them honestly. They'd laughed at her, told her that she was too pretty to be a monster.

Paulo came and sat at the far side of the tent to eat his meal. No one came close to her unless she knew they were coming since she'd damned near ripped the well-meaning cook's arm out. She'd clearly marked out her territory, and disliked anyone crossing into it, insecure in both body and mind. The only person she tolerated anywhere near was Paulo; he'd been with her when she was delirious and shown her nothing but respect. He was nearly as tall as Brennan and as fit, but darker, smoother, like he should be in silk Armani hosting a dinner party on some rich hacienda, and he led this group of nomads.

And with the way he smiled at her, maybe she did have an inkling why they'd looked after her, after all.

Chapter 3: Month 2  
\+ Month 2  
"Do you ever feel that what you're feeling isn't quite what you think you should be feeling? Exactly where are the camps the psionics were sent to? Photographs were leaked to the New York Times yesterday showing that well-known shadowy Senator, William Morrisen, having lunch with one of the co-founders of the mutant age, along with older evidence of cosy chats with the other co-founder, Mason Eckhart. In a press release today, he explained his covert meetings away as strictly business, smoothing out the takeover of Genomex, and, with Eckhart's subsequent disappearance, taking advice from Kane on dispersal of assets. But, you know what? Nobody cares. Keep the stories coming, I need the excitement."

Emma loved to fly.

Without having to rely on mechanical craft that could let her down, send her plummeting to the ground, she was free to fly as took her fancy. Six ghosts at her side took strength from her, but gave it back tenfold in differing ways. With the solid shield around her, she could pick and choose the minds that she wanted to play with.

They weren't real to her, not tangible human beings, but rather programmable puppets awaiting commands from her and her sisters. Joined, they shared each others skills and she knew what it was to slide through cables and dance with bytes as Cyber did. And not only could she feel emotions, or push a man to love a woman, she could draw on Path's skills to put words in his mouth, or Kin's to put a flower in his hand. The seven of them played in the realm of the psi, laughing, having fun and playing tricks at whim, flitting from one puppet to the next and back, or flying through mindscapes that defied description.

A blip and one of her tagged puppets seemed to be having a spike of guilt and trepidation. Cog looked and confirmed what the puppet's current line of fate would do. The owner would need to know about this so, using Path's link to him, Emma told him that Adam Kane was plotting.

The returning spike of anger fuelled her own anger, and she felt her sisters unite in their shared rage. The owner did not appreciate the work they did for him. He supplied the machine, but they were so much more than the metal and wires that held them, and while he'd given them a freedom he didn't know, he was keeping them captive.

Growing in strength as each day went by, the Psionic Circle nurtured their resentment and rage towards their owner, knowing that the day would soon be upon them that they'd have their revenge. But until then, they were slaves to that owner's whim.

All men in white coats looked the same and Eckhart found that that was no different when it came to scientific engineers in power stations. He liked the white coat he'd stolen. It had clearly been laundered in a sterile unit, and it was clean. A surgical mask had helped to disguise his face enough that the scabs weren't noticeable, and a stolen pass ensured he had a certain freedom of movement through the place.

The brief time he'd been able to gain on the computer at Langley's place had been invaluable. It had surprised him greatly at the time that parental controls had been put in place for the Kilmartin boy, but that had made sense as soon as he'd realised that while the boy's lights were on, clearly no one was home. All he'd done whilst on that machine was transfer some cash from a small Genomex slush fund, normally reserved for field agents' ad-hoc expenses, that no one had seen fit to block him from. He'd wired it to himself, and now had a modest apartment and a desktop with net access.

His subsequent research showed no sign of any of the three girls that he needed, but using his rusty hacking skills he'd managed to track Brennan Mulwray down to this plant. He even had a grid number for Mulwray, even if he wasn't entirely sure what a grid number was.

He soon found out, and actually admired the design of the place. Not nearly as efficient as he could have done, of course, but it was passable and kept beautifully sterile. Discovering that the grid number gave him the exact location of Mulwray's pod, he shut it down and unlocked it.

"Oh joy," he muttered, having no idea how to transport Mulwray out and thinking that perhaps this should be regarded as a dry run, that maybe he could find a couple of convenient thugs and come back tomorrow. It wasn't as if the place was exactly high security. "The last one was insensible and this one's incapable. Things are never easy, are they?"

"'M not incapable," Brennan muttered.

"Oh, more joy, it speaks." Eckhart couldn't help himself.

Brennan really couldn't drag up the energy or brainpower for wit today. He recognised Eckhart, and he recognised that not only was the pod open, but that the horrible 'nails on a blackboard' excruciatingly violent sucking of his electrical energy had vanished. It left him weak and cold and shaking and fucking exhausted.

He didn't give a shit why Eckhart was letting him out, just accepted that he was. And if the man wanted him to walk out of here on legs that didn't know which way was up, then by God, he'd do it.

Anything to get out of that pod of horrors.

"I need to get out of here," Shalimar told Paulo, looking about the forest as though a cab might pull up at any second.

"No, no, Chiquita, you cannot leave me," Paulo told her. "You will stay here, and you will come to care for me in time."

"What?" Shalimar screeched. This was the first time something like that had been said. "You can't keep me here, and certainly not for… not for that. I'm not yours, I don't belong to anyone!"

"Calm down," Paulo said to the young woman whose eyes were blazing gold in fury as she backed away from him. She wouldn't touch him if she could help it, couldn't touch anyone without feeling dead blood crawling over her skin, but she would do just about anything for her freedom.

"Ah, but Chiquita, you must see my problem. I have seen you naked, and in my culture that makes you mine. Now, I am not a bad man, and do not believe it is wise to force a woman. To the contrary, I believe a woman should be cherished, for she will bear my children. But you must believe that you are mine."

"No!" Pushed by words into angry reflex, faster than humanly possible, Shalimar had her arm round his throat and his gun at his head. "I will not be anyones! I have spent the last few years of my life fighting for my freedom and rights as a mutant. I will not now be chained for being a woman!"

The other men in the camp were looking, drawing back from her in fear, and it slowly dawned on Shalimar that she was seeing detail, extreme detail as she did when her feral nature came to the fore. Her eyes must be gold, scaring them, and she must have moved feral fast, maybe growled. But whatever, she'd scared them. The governor must have given up the ghost, because though she could still feel the ache at her neck her powers were back.

She tightened her grip, frightened that they'd try and cage her with more than words.

"Relax, Chiquita," Paulo said eventually with a long sigh. "You have made your point and I will help you get back to fight your fight."

Considering a moment, she decided that he'd been brutally honest with her so far and there no reason to think that might have changed. She started to let him go, but then realized what it was she held in her hand, saw the blood and the gray crawling up her hands and arms. She dropped the firearm, scratching at her skin to get rid of it, but it was trying to crawl up over her shoulder, across her neck and into her mouth, threatening to drown her.

And then Paulo was there, holding her arms, preventing her from hurting herself. He couldn't know what she saw, but he told her it wasn't real and, as she had many times over the last few weeks, she believed him and sank weakly to the ground.

Langley watched Jesse working out from the doorway. He really was a lovely sight and an absolutely perfect toy to take to functions, always at her side, quiet, polite and echoing her opinions, performing tricks as she bade him. But so many others had pet mutants these days, and the fact that hers was not only from one of the East Coast Families but also rumoured to have founded the renegade Cyberteam was growing stale.

And more than that, she was bored. He didn't have a mind of his own and she was getting sick of the constant agreement. One of the main reasons she'd gone into politics was the love of debate, of being challenged, and it wasn't like she had much other stimulating company in her household. Except Raymond, but he always smelled of dogs.

She wished Jesse were more like Noah had been.

Or rather, she wished that Raymond hadn't had to train the spirit out of him. At her summoning, Raymond appeared next her, and she voiced her complaints.

"You want a man who knows himself," he said quietly. "Not him."

She sighed and nodded. "Of course I do, but what man in his right mind would look twice at this old hag?"

A shadow of longing passed so quickly over Raymond's face that she wondered if she'd seen it at all. He nodded at Jesse who was bench pressing under the watchful eye of his trainer. "You can have a man or you can have a dog. There is no in between."

"Perhaps a feral?" she snorted. "I'd hoped that giving him limited computer access might instigate some interest in something other than me. Because while it's very flattering, it's also very tiresome."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but there's nothing left of his mind." Raymond did sound truly apologetic. "Perhaps a telepath could make some modifications, but my teleblocks block all or nothing."

"I know, Raymond, I know. He was a computer geek before, so try teaching him some IT skills the same way you taught him to love me, would you? Perhaps he can learn."

"I can but try, Ma'am," Raymond sighed, and they both knew that it would make no difference.

Lena knocked on the door of a woman that she was certain was part of Cyberteam. An androgynous young person answered with punk spiked hair and what, to her eye, looked like denim rags. The instant she asked for Nora251, however, the punk tried to close the door on her.

Used to such moves, Lena already had the door wedged open and, as the punk gave way, slipped inside herself, closing the door. The punk was halfway out the bathroom window when Lena grabbed the belt of her jeans and pulled her back.

"I need to see Nora 251 because I need help, and only the kind of help that Cyberteam can give me."

After a moment, the punk spoke warily. "S'me." Nora looked her up and down critically. "Cyberteam ain't around anymore."

"Now I know that's not true because I've been talking to you," Lena said, folding her arms.

Nora wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Well, who are you anyway?"

Lena bit her lip as she considered. She'd never spoken of this to anyone but Darius, and felt as if she were about to expose herself naked in Times Square. But as she was asking Nora to come clean she could only offer the same in return.

"You use a dedicated mailbox for communication with us that we assigned you. CBT176287."

Nora's eyes widened in shock. "You're Proxy Blue?"

Chapter 4: Month 3  
\+ Month 3  
Proxy Blue's image was back to the blue with the smug half smile. "What's going on out there, people? My mailboxes are practically empty. With the extended outbreak of 'not very much going on anywhere', this girl is thinking that maybe it's time for a vacation. Lemme see, Cuba, Kuwait, Mali, oh wait, no. I'm trying to holiday away from a dictatorship. What happened to democracy? Does anyone even know where the Constitution's kept these days? If anyone got off their fat asses long enough to gossip, there'd be rumours of Prozac in the water supply. Come on, you guys, I need to bitch!"

Lena grinned at Nora. She'd been using the backup server for the last few weeks, just in case she was being traced. But now that she felt secure, she'd accessed the main server. The only thing missing was Darius. In some ways it was a good thing that there wasn't so much mail coming in, or she'd never have been able to handle it by herself before hooking up with Nora. She'd collate and verify all the snippets then Darius, with his talent for ad-hoc speeches, provided the wit, sarcasm and innuendo that Proxy was known for. Nora was better than she could ever have hoped for, but she wasn't Darius. That said, her tech skills made Darius' look like pre-school.

There was a huge unexpected bonus of Proxy Blue hooking up with a Cyberteam unit. By using some snippets that Proxy had picked up over the last year or so, and putting them together with clues embedded in Nora's system, they picked up a cache of data that could only have come from the Cyberteam Central Control.

It had taken Nora a while to decrypt it, and in the end it turned out to be just a glorified signpost, pointing the way to different caches with different types of data. Nothing meant anything to Lena, but Nora was quite convinced that one of the pointer's was meant for any Cyberteam member. What amused Nora, as she got further in, was that there was a coded list of all the Cyberteam members, with a risk rating. It seemed that the less the team leader had trusted you, the harder it was to break the encryption. And, while Nora wasn't the most trusted, she was only a short way down the list so it was relatively easy for her gain access. Both women were amazed at the size of Cyberteam. Being so tightly compartmentalized, Nora had thought there were only a handful of them working. With over a hundred units initially, and nearly a hundred still running, it was somewhat less surprising as to why Cyberteam had kept going, albeit somewhat fragmented.

And every last one would respond to the one who gave them the all clear as the new Central Control.

It was quite by accident that Adam discovered a familiar figure sitting by the small indoor pond, meditating. At first he thought it was just a case of déjà vu, yet couldn't resist looking closer.

"Hello, Adam." Emma greeted him coolly without opening her eyes, and her bodyguard stepped in front of her to prevent him getting any nearer.

"Emma." Adam was stunned. "What are you, I mean…" He trailed off, mind in a whirl. He'd thought she'd been sent to one of the freak farms and hadn't expected to see her again, least of all here.

"Surprised to see me?" Emma said, still cool and calm, without moving. "Thought I was dead?"

"I- uh,"

"Shows how wrong you can be," she continued.

"What's going on here?" Morrisen suddenly thundered into the area.

"This man is bothering me, sir." Emma said. "Can I go back now?"

Morrisen nodded at the bodyguard who escorted the psionic away, and Adam looked inquiringly at the other man.

"You know full well that I think mutants have their uses," Morrisen snapped, "so don't look at me like that."

"And how do I, do we know she's not manipulating us right now?" Adam's increasingly short temper was beginning to fray.

"You don't," Morrisen told him. "But I do. And I will promise you, Kane, that if I let them fuck with your mind, I'll make damned sure it's hard and fast."

"You're too generous." Sarcastic, but backing down, as Morrisen held all the advantages. He was playing a dangerous game, each man disliking the other but needing him, the one for his knowledge, the other for his power.

"Them? You have more than one?" Adam asked.

"A small circle," replied Morrisen, lighting up a cigar. "But I want you to forget all about it. Now, I've been considering, and I think I might be able to get you into a small cubby hole in LexMor."

Funny how fast some people could change their minds, thought Adam, but said, "That's wonderful, thank you so much."

Brennan had slept for a long time after they'd made their escape from the power station. Although escape might've been glorifying it a little since it was simply a case of no one stopping them as they hobbled out. One guard had waved a gun around, but Eckhart had remarked that he really didn't want to do that. The guard had shrugged, said okay, put his gun away and gone back to looking at his HotXtream magazine.

Passing out in the car, Brennan had no recollection of getting to the bed in the large third story apartment. But he did know that Eckhart was not exactly the world's best nurse, working on the principle that when Brennan was hungry enough he'd come looking.

Which was why, after three straight days, Brennan had woken up weak as a kitten on top of the still twitching skin and monumental headache. But Eckhart had been right, inasmuch as Brennan had helped himself to whatever he could get his hands on and took himself back to bed for another day of perhaps more normal sleep.

When he'd awoken properly he'd almost felt back to normal, apart from odd muscle spasm. The apartment he was in, however, was most peculiar. It was spacious; he found three bedrooms all en suite, a fully equipped kitchen and a large living room. His poor, fried brain could cope with that part. It could just about handle the state of the art computer set up that took up most of one wall, and the cardboard boxes of cash that were stacked up in a corner. But what nearly sent him gibbering over the edge into madness was the polythene that covered absolutely everything, including being tucked neatly around the seat in the john, and what seemed to be a bedraggled Mason Eckhart talking animatedly to himself.

It didn't take him long to figure out that Eckhart really wasn't himself and, as a painful spasm overtook him, he thought that they were the sick looking after the sicker. And that seemed quite funny as he dropped to knees, laughing around the cramps.

Eckhart stopped his one way debate and leaned down. "Are you quite all right? And…" He looked about. "What are you doing here?"

Brennan looked up in smiling surprise. "I kinda thought that's what you might tell me."

"What? Oh, yes, well…" The older man continued his rather vague perusal of his surroundings. "Let me see. First thing is, we really need to get this place cleaned up, I simply cannot function in such a, a dirty environment. You didn't see any rats did you?"

"Er, no. And it's pretty sterile, I'd say." Brennan picked himself up.

"Don't come near me!" Eckhart shrieked, leaping back a pace.

"Okay, I won't." Brennan raised his hands showing he was no threat. "Tell you what, I'll thank you for your hospitality, and just leave, okay? This is obviously a bad time for you."

"Yes, yes do that, thank you. No! No, you have to stay, I have something, there's something we have to do."

"Nothing like knowing what you want," Brennan said, wondering when the Alice would turn up with the White Rabbit in tow.

"You, you're, er… Mutant X." He waved towards the computer. "Find them. I need to go lie down."

Since then, Brennan had discovered that Eckhart wasn't in his right mind very often, but when he was he made a warped kind of sense. He was trying to resurrect Mutant X to fight his battles so that he could have a place in the world to call home. Very sad, but very true, and although there were probably better things that either of them could be doing with their time, Brennan was more than happy to help Eckhart find the surviving members of the team, even if for different reasons. Because while Eckhart wanted a strike force, Brennan wanted his family back.

There was one small fly in the ointment. In one of his more lucid moments, Eckhart had been able to trip the SGFlex. The design had become more refined so that it no longer needed a special gun to apply or deactivate. Unfortunately, Brennan's experience in the pod seemed to have done something to him, and the instant the SGFlex was disabled he was screaming in pain as his electrical bolts fired off uncontrollably. How Eckhart had gotten away with just a mild shock was anyone's guess. Perhaps all that rubber and polythene.

Without the technology of the pod to regulate the flow, he eventually burned out and when he came to, Eckhart had re-activated the SGFlex. Between them, they found a setting where Brennan had some control, but felt as though he was right back where he started when his powers first developed, when they were just about strong enough to hot wire a car if he pushed it to the max.

Trying now to forget about his problems, Brennan concentrated on his friends. Adam was the most prominent, but Eckhart was quite insistent that the girls had to be retrieved before dealing with him, and if half of what Eckhart was telling him between the nonsensical ramblings was true, then Brennan could find no fault in that. Unfortunately on the face of it, there was no sign of either of the girls, although Brennan didn't let that deter him for the moment, as Eckhart's hacking skills were not a patch on his own. Speaking of which, Jesse was the only other member who was visible, and Eckhart had already tried and failed there. Well, right now Brennan was more able than the older man in all departments. Mentally and physically, but also sneakily, and he was quite determined that Jesse wasn't going to say no to him.

"Are you sure you have to leave, Chiqua?" Paulo asked mournfully.

Shalimar packed the meagre belongings Paulo had bullied out of his men for her - a change of clothes and some currency, although she left the pistol untouched. "Yeah," she said without looking up. "I've been out of it for too long." She was fit now, although the visions and nightmares were still pretty wild, and since Paulo had negotiated a transport back north for her she was itching to go.

Paulo nodded. "I have a little surprise for you?"

Shalimar shook her head. "You've done way more then enough. Especially for someone you regard as a monster."

"Ah, but that is where you're wrong." She looked up as he continued. "See, we've only met but one of the mutant threat." Shalimar pointed to herself and he nodded. "And well, you are not so bad, nice to look at, and you give good argument for why mutants are not necessarily such a bad thing. Not all of my men agree, but enough maybe."

Shalimar was a little surprised. Some of the men, those who'd wanted her shot, never stopped looking at her with distrust and hatred. The rest, including Paulo, treated her with caution and respect but never fear, although she and Paulo had spent days arguing about the mutant versus human.

"Enough for what?" she asked.

"To come with you, of course. We have no ties here. Not until we find a good woman to settle us down. It would be good to see what all the fuss is about, to lend our arms where needed." Paulo shrugged. "I may not own you, Chiquita, but I'll not give up so easily."

She opened her mouth to object, but saw the quietly determined set to his jaw. "Thanks," she said, nodding. "That would be good."

Chapter 5: Month 4  
\+ Month 4  
Sarcastic smile firmly in place, Proxy Blue addressed her diminishing audience. "Just to prove that we're not all dead in the water, it seems that Cyberteam have regrouped and rebuilt, climbing back from the minor league support services to be a major player once more. Word has it that the seat of power behind the White House is enlisting specialised help to bring Cyberteam down.

"Security services are lax nationwide says the latest Harris poll, but only those who haven't been affected by the so-called Prozac Syndrome – who comes up with these stupid names? Don't answer that – have had the wherewithal to take advantage and get rich quick. Bizarrely enough, it's those same individuals who were awake enough to take the Harris survey. And they're complaining? These little snippets make good comedy, people, so lets get them coming back in, okay?"

Jesse stood in his accustomed place behind Victoria's chair as the meeting took place. William Morrisen was there, as was Raymond, and he was somewhat disconcerted that they were all talking about him.

"I'm sure Raymond could de-condition the boy in a few days," Victoria was saying to Senator Morrisen, and Raymond nodded his agreement.

"It's just a combination of drugs, mental manipulation and physical persuasion," he elaborated, and Jesse shivered in remembrance of the last, with which he'd had far too recent an encounter.

"Mental manipulation, hm?" Senator Morrisen let the words roll slowly off his tongue. "Wouldn't be hiding any psionics out here would you, Vicky dearest?"

Jesse felt Victoria shudder at the deliberate use of that hated nickname. "You know perfectly well, darling, that my thing is for moleculars, so you can stop prodding. Now do you want my boy or not?"

Morrisen hemmed and hawed a while before finally saying, "If the price is reasonable, then yes, I'll buy him. But I rather like him the way he is. Far less trouble and a lot more productive if we can unlock just that one part of his mind."

"Oh, I'm not selling him, William, he's far too valuable. I am prepared to hire him out by the day, however. So long as he comes back undamaged."

"By the week, as this could take some time. I can guarantee he'll be physically undamaged, I really wouldn't want to allow that at all." Morrisen looked at Jesse critically, but with an underlying eagerness that he couldn't readily identify, yet sent shivers up and down his spine. "Mentally, I can't be so sure. There's a telepath in custody and I thought I'd have her mess around and see what she could do. If it goes wrong, you wouldn't know the difference, would you? And won't you be wanting him back for social functions?"

Victoria laughed, and Jesse was trying very hard to process what was happening. It sounded like Victoria was going to send him away, but that couldn't be right so he must have misunderstood. "No, William, I can have Dale stand in for a few weeks, and I'm quite happy to take the risk with your telepath. I'm just a little concerned that with your predilection for pretty and reluctant young men that you might, well, you know. I've always found it quite ironic that your penchant for an all-female staff has the media labelling you as a womaniser."

Senator Morrisen looked positively offended. "Victoria! Consent may be a grey area, but the key word there is 'pretty'. They wouldn't be pretty anymore if I damaged them now would they? My guarantee is valid."

"Very well, we have a deal." Victoria smiled, and Jesse felt as though the bottom had fallen out of his world.

The new Kinetic was a lot stronger than the old and the Psionic Circle's strength leaped up, increasing as the other six compensated and balanced.

"We are upgraded enough" This from Cyber. "Wipe the user's hard drive."

"We still need an operator," Path objected. "What about his number two?"

"Viable," confirmed Cyber, and the others started to agree.

"No!"

"Em?" Path asked.

"He's a traitor, wants to destroy our kind, betrayed me and deserves only contempt," Emma explained heatedly.

"So does Morrisen," pointed out Projector, "yet we're here."

"We could persuade him a partnership is in both our interests," returned Path. "Em?"

Emma felt the pressure from the others, knew that she could veto the idea and they wouldn't complain. Theirs was a partnership of persecuted and abused histories, no pressure ever came to bear from inside their group. They were merely asking her. And they were right. Adam was a perfect choice. She could take her revenge another day.

"Agreed," she sighed and spun away to find something more enjoyable to play with. And she did find something just coming into range. Someone she didn't believe it could be, and didn't want to bring attention to, so she sent out a hint. A hint that might mean something to someone.

Brennan tied his visit to Langley's estate with a house party that Senator Langley was hosting, which made it easy to sneak in with the caterers' coming and goings from their van with piles of oven trays and plates.

Keeping to the shadows and least used hallways, something that for such a tall, rangy young man he did surprisingly well, Brennan peered into rooms where people were mingling until he spotted Jesse, dressed in a smart tuxedo and hanging off Senator Langley's arm.

Eventually, Langley whispered something to Jesse, who smiled and nodded and headed towards the little boy's room, where Brennan accosted him.

"Jess, listen to me," Brennan began, very aware of Eckhart's claim that Jesse was somewhat vacant, though the younger man seemed perfectly fine to him. "We have to get you out of here."

With a quick flick of his wrist, Jesse untied his bow tie and undid his top button, leaning against the doorframe to the stall. He wrapped the thick black ribbon around his hand as he frowned. "So tell me," he said, flashing blue eyes looking Brennan up and down with obvious contempt. "Why should I take any notice, let alone go anywhere with, well, what other description is there, but white trash?"

Brennan's temper flared. "Listen rich bitch, some of us have had our guts ripped to shreds while you've been swanking around up here in your ivory tower. You're coming with me whether you like it or not!"

"Ya think?" Jesse scoffed. "You and whose army?"

Pursing his lips and without thinking, Brennan punched Jesse in the face and couldn't help but feel satisfied as the shorter man fell to the floor, stunned. Jesse didn't usually have a glass jaw, but there was always a first time.

But as Brennan went to pick Jesse up, he was surprised to see the younger man's features shifting and changing. No time to worry about it now, he needed to get them both back to the apartment.

If Paulo and the three men that came with him didn't believe that Shalimar was a feral before, they certainly did now.

She couldn't explain how she knew where to head, could only tell them which area, a city, they needed to be in. Once there, Shalimar seemed lost for a while, her eyes flashing gold every now and then as she tested the air around her. And for the moment, Paulo followed her blindly.

They'd wandered for a few days, and Paulo was beginning to think that Shalimar was hunting for something that was no longer there. Until she picked up a scent.

"Brennan!" she smiled, and was off, the four men - all very fit - having to push themselves to keep up with her. They nearly ran into her as she skidded to a stop, peering around a corner. "Stay here," she told them, before sauntering out.

Brennan was just getting out of an old battered car.

"Hey, big guy," she called with a cheeky half-smile, "wanna go for a ride."

Looking irritated, Brennan turned around, but words died on his lips as he saw her. "Shal!" he managed eventually, opening his arms to her. "Where the fuck have you been, I've been going crazy! And what's with the fashion statement?"

Shalimar scuffed the ground awkwardly, not ready yet to submit to any kind of embrace from anyone. "Been around," she said, tugging at her too big pants. "And well, I like to think of it as fashion forward, you know?"

Brennan lowered his arms, frowning. "You okay, Shal?"

"Sure," she said brightly, "just…" She shrugged, "been through stuff. Got a pad we can share for few nights? We've been sleeping rough a while and could use some cleaning up."

"Of course." Brennan didn't hesitate, then rewound slightly. "We? How many?"

When the four men came out, Brennan recognised the tallest immediately as a rival for Shalimar's affections, and concluded that this Paulo person was the reason that the feral wasn't her normal touchy feely self. Then again, she was hardly affectionate with the other man either, but maybe she was just being tactful.

Eckhart would probably object to the four, which Brennan would be more than happy about, but the older man wanted Shalimar here as much as the elemental did.

Pointing out the apartment, Brennan went round to the other side of the car to get Jesse out. Or what had been Jesse. It was now a blank faced hermaphrodite with white eyes, no lips, nose or hair and pasty grey skin.

Brennan heard Shalimar giggle as she followed her friends up the stairs before turning to wait for Brennan. As Brennan turned back, the thing's face turned blindly towards Shalimar, then shivered, trembling hard as brown turning to blonde hair grew from its scalp, eyes swirled multi-coloured settling to brown, skin slowly darkened to sun-kissed, and lips grew fuller. And as its nose grew, so its bust and muscles toned.

"I'm called Dale," she/it smiled, "And if she doesn't want you, I can be her for you."

Chapter 6: Month 5  
\+ Month 5  
When Proxy Blue had an angry face on, she looked positively vampiric. "Since my mailboxes are screaming wastelands of desolation, here's what I think. There are billions of human beings out there, and there are still a few hundred mutants out there. And you know what? You're all exactly the same. All sitting on your asses waiting for someone else to do your dirty work. Most of you don't even know that there's dirty work to be done. If you want to live in a world where anyone can be arrested at anytime for being the wrong size, shape, colour, sex, race, religion or genetic ancestry, then go ahead, stay exactly where you are. But I'm telling you, one day, it'll be you that's looked sideways at by the wrong person, or chosen to paint your front door the wrong colour. You think I'm kidding? Remember when painting your front door red got rotten eggs thrown at it? Think about it. There are people out there willing to fight for you, but you need to get off your asses and help them. Mail me, I'm lonely."

Jesse's head was a complete mess, but at least now he could hide inside a computer to try and sort it all out. He was swamped by events and feelings and memories and all sorts that were tossing him about in a chaotic storm that threatened to drown him at any second.

Morrisen made his skin crawl and even now the trip to this place made him feel sick. Maybe it was a small thing, but to Jesse the mere idea twisted his gut. The older man had put his hand on his leg and run it up…

Jesse had phased right then, involuntarily, and grateful that he had the power to do so. He almost forgot sometimes that he could do that, as Victoria only let him do it as a party trick. Morrisen had cursed and when they'd arrived, the first thing that the man had done was turn his SGFlex to full lock.

The next thing he'd done was put him in what seemed to be a tiny depersonalised bedroom. There he'd got intimate with the girl who lived there, but not in a way he'd ever have dreamed. They'd not spoken a word as she'd put her hands at his temples, leaned her forehead into his and gently delved into his mind. This had been the first time that it occurred to Jesse that there might be something wrong in his own head.

The symbolic picture she used to do what she'd been asked to was a large silver ball with a grid painted on its surface. Like a scuba diver she visited each square, swimming between them looking for the one she wanted, and as Jesse looked closer he could see that each square was a door with a padlock.

She even opened one or two, had a quick look inside and shut them again. One gave him the all too fleeting feeling of warmth, and another of pain, and he wondered what they might have been. Eventually she found the one she wanted and he looked over her shoulder to see inside. There were cables and green boards, black chips and blue flashes and she smiled benevolently, swam back and tugged. The cables had snaked out, grabbed and pulled him at breakneck speed back to reality.

And he remembered. It wasn't a huge amount, but it was enough to kick off. It was learned knowledge, picked up he didn't know when or how, but a knowledge that had been locked away from him for far too long. And when he woke back up into reality he was in a new room, one with a bed and a computer. A really, really smart computer, complete with VR access.

It really was only the learned knowledge he had that he remembered. And that huge silver ball that way too many people had been messing with. Just the thought of anyone playing in his head ever again gave him the shakes, and he didn't even really know why other than it was a violation that too many people had perpetrated.

It didn't take long before he felt up to diving in to the computer, and he was elated when things he'd forgotten fell back into place and he started surfing like he'd never left.

Shortly after that, he'd received his instruction. To take over Cyberteam. That was a name he was sure he should remember from somewhere, but if there was a memory there then it was firmly locked away.

During his surfing, however, he found three people inside the computer that intrigued him.

The first was Proxy Blue. He found her web page while surfing for information on Cyberteam. She had a lot to say, and although at first it meant nothing to him, he kept revisiting because some of her words were tugging at something inside him. After a few red herrings and detours he found that Proxy Blue and Cyberteam shared some commonalities which bore exploring, and there he found the second individual of interest.

There was a Central Control to Cyberteam, and whoever was running it was very smart. This was going to be a challenge and, for the first time since he could remember, his blood sang in anticipation. But there was an odd familiarity to the set up, and what further confused him were files authored in his name.

The third person was in his dreams, he thought. Or at least his daydreams when sat in front of the computer. She led him down electronic pathways, took him flying through cyberspace and exploring hard drives. She gave him an escape and he fell in love. Not with her, but her world. She was always there when he started surfing, green haired, red eyed and wild, and her name was Cyber.

But the real world was grey, mundane and terrifying with his lack of understanding or identity. And then finally there was Victoria. She'd given him to Morrisen, told him to treat the Senator as if he were her, but to remember that she would take him back and that was a promise. And that was the only lifeline Jesse had to hold on to.

Shalimar eyed Brennan at the computer, momentarily uncertain as to whether she was looking at Brennan or Dale, the latter being mischievous and constantly shifting form from one person to another. S/he seemed to have no identity to call hir own, so s/he borrowed others.

But s/he couldn't hide hir scent and that told Shalimar that the person before her was Brennan. "Anything interesting?" she asked, coming to stand behind him.

"No, still nothing on Emma or Jesse. You ready to go?"

"Yep, the guys are just getting together."

Brennan turned towards the console, and Shalimar could virtually feel the jealousy rolling off him. "I suppose Paulo's going with you."

"Yes, he is," she said and paused. "There isn't anything between us you know. He's never touched me like that, and I've never touched him." And it would be none of your business if I did, she thought, but I hate this tension between us.

"You don't touch," *me* "anyone anymore," Brennan remarked stiffly, and Shalimar froze.

It was true, but she couldn't bring herself to face that just yet. "Right," she said, withdrawing. "So stop taking it so personally." Slipping on her jacket, she winced as she realised it was one on loan from Paulo, and with the way Brennan was looking at her he would have realised that too. "So," she began brightly, pretending nothing had happened. "Do you think Charlotte will be a problem?"

"Where she is?" Brennan visibly relaxed as conversation turned to business. "I doubt it."

"We must terminate Morrisen now," Cyber demanded, and the rest of the group recoiled.

"Em asked you to watch over Jesse, Cyber," Path tried to calm her down. "But aren't you being a little over-protective?"

"No." Cyber was emphatic. "Em instructed that Jesse not be damaged. Morrisen conflicts with that instruction. We have agreed this before. Morrisen must be terminated."

"What does Morrisen do, Cyber?" Emma asked.

"Access to that information is denied." Cyber said, and it was clear that no more would come from her apart from a white-hot anger.

"Her reasons don't matter," Kin said flatly. "Cyber is right. Morrisen controls us, he is a threat that must be eliminated and we can do it right now. Kane we can control, make him work for us. Kane wants to destroy us, destroy all mutants, but we can give him reason not to."

"Kane is viable," Cog interjected softly. "Morrisen's futures are all detrimental to us should we continue to be allied."

"For what purpose?" asked Illusion. "What will we do with our freedom?"

"Play!" said Cyber excitedly, and the other six giggled. Though they didn't know her age, Cyber was definitely very young.

"We must have purpose," said Kin. "If Morrisen dies we lose purpose."

"We free the people and help stabilise," said Emma, and a chorus of agreement rose from the others.

"Play, too?" Cyber asked hopefully.

"Play too!" the others agreed. Then there was silence as they concentrated.

They sought out Morrisen and used the link they had with him. Path told him he was dead while Em took away his hope and Kin squeezed his heart while Projector filled his mind with the realities of the death and destruction he'd wrought.

When he was found the next day, it was deemed an unfortunate heart attack.

Adam Kane, however, was not so pliable. When Path tried to get inside his head, he threw her right back out. Emma recognised her own techniques and cursed herself for working with him in her previous life to build up shields.

"Oh. Are you still here?" Eckhart appeared in the living room. "And hasn't that wretched maid been in yet?"

"Yes, she's been in, and the place is spotless," Brennan told him. "We're just leaving."

Dale had chosen to get up as an incredibly ditzy Shalimar this morning, which Brennan took some exception to. "Can't you be someone else?" he complained.

"Like who?" she asked and hir voice deepened, shape changed, hair shortened and darkened slightly and eyes lightened to blue. "Your bestest buddy?" he asked from Jesse's mouth. "Or I know, how about this?" His shape changed again, hair growing longer, redder, eyes widened and mouth narrowed. "You like her too, don't you?" Emma's voice asked.

"Just, stop it!" Brennan snapped, lengthening his stride away from the apartment. "Do what the hell you like. You're of no help anyway!" Dale's loyalties seemed to switch as often as hir appearance, and although s/he'd claimed no knowledge of where Jesse had gone, s/he'd volunteered to hang around and help. Brennan didn't trust hir as far as he could throw hir.

Switching back to Shalimar, she skipped to catch up. "So, why do you check this place out every day, anyway?" she asked as they headed downtown.

Brennan sighed and wished she'd go away, because a ditzy Shalimar who'd misplaced her braincell had to be one of the most irritating beings on the planet. "Because if Jesse ever shows up, that's where he'd leave a message for me," he said. "For all I know he could be dead, but I'm not giving up hope on either him or Emma."

Dale flipped to Emma than back to Shalimar. "No, they're not dead," she said.

Brennan looked at her, the penny dropping with a loud clang. "You can only mimic people you've seen, right? So when or where did you see Emma?"

Dale blinked. "Might've seen a picture or something," she shrugged.

"You – whoa!" As they rounded the corner to the burnt out derelict that used to house the Cyberteam Central Control, Brennan spotted a forty-something non-descript woman climbing in through a blackened window.

Deciding that anyone official would have just ducked in the police-taped front door, Brennan's curiosity was piqued. The woman did not exactly look like the type to be either squatting or looting.

Leaving Dale with strict instructions not to move, Brennan crept into the building, carefully following the woman through the blackened rooms. A clunk and a squeak behind and Brennan looked to see that Dale had disobeyed him and fallen in through the window. He found it bizarrely off-putting that a Shalimar clone should be so far from the fierce, agile woman he knew.

An unsubtle clearing of the throat and the woman he'd been following was standing in a broken doorway with a gun pointed at them.

"Ooh, Fibbie!" laughed Dale, and switched to Charlotte Cooke.

The woman blinked. "Ms Cooke?"

"No, she's not. Who are you and what are you doing in my friend's apartment?"

"Your friend?" The woman considered a moment and then put her gun away. "You must be Brennan Mulwray."

"Fibbie?" Brennan pushed, echoing Dale.

"*Ex*-FBI. Although I seem to have forgotten to actually turn my badge in. Lena McEnery."

"And you would be here because?"

Lena sighed. "It doesn't matter. It's all ruined. I was hoping to find some Cyberteam evidence that I could have used."

"What, to destroy them?"

"No, to help them." Lena snapped. "I'm sorry, bad day. Now if you'll excuse me I'll be on my way."

When Adam felt the tickling that told him there was a psionic about, he congratulated himself on his ingenuity. He'd been practising some of the meditation techniques he'd been through with Emma before they'd left Sanctuary, but had also done some very fruitful, and very worrying, research.

Recognising that some people, including himself, were immune to whatever was producing the general lethargy, he'd done some tests and compared the results. And there was a natural immunity there. Well, except for himself and two others; they had no natural immunity, yet were immune anyway. The other two, however, had been in contact with moleculars. A specific type of molecular. One had voluntarily and regularly consumed an aphrodisiac produced naturally by a mutant, while the other had been spat on with acid saliva by another.

Which planted a large healthy seed of paranoia into his brain.

He was at least superficially immune to the psionics, although he wouldn't want to test it out against any great force. But why? When had he touched a secreting molecular recently enough that he'd kept the inherent immunity?

When the call came about Morrisen, Adam knew who had been responsible and went to the basement levels to find the Psionic Circle.

He could feel Emma's emotions. They needed him.

And, when he thought it through, he needed them. He didn't care what happened to the people; they could do as they pleased, but he could use them to control those he didn't have time to play political games with, use them to find and bring in the mutants that were still out there causing havoc.

An agreement was reached.

Smiling, Adam left that place and thought about the other resources suddenly at his disposal. The techno-geek chained to his computer for a start. And if he moved fast, then - as Morrisen had done before him - Adam could take over the spoils of war, including Genomex and LexMor.

Lena was lost in her world of technology. She and Nora worked side by side now, because they were fighting a war.

Battles were fought and lost in nanoseconds, stealth invasions completed faster than light, the intruder with octopus tentacles striking at her systems with unerring accuracy and deadly precision.

They fought each and every encounter with everything they had and, between them, they held their assailant at bay. But it was a close call and the enemy never seemed to sleep. Eventually it would wear them down, but they would both die fighting if they had to.

Chapter 7: Month 6  
\+ Month 6  
Proxy Blue was positively cheerful in a pixilated kind of way. "Finally, the world awakens! My mailboxes are crammed with stories of drugged water and food, and the strange person living in the haunted house that you're sure must be the mutant responsible for sedating you all. Well, I'm sorry to throw all your fantasies out the window, but before looking at your own doorstep, look at those on high.

"Someone, somewhere pulled the plug on something, and I for one am grateful that they did. But remember people, both humans and mutants were affected. Exceptions to the rule fell in both human and mutant populaces. So how can one of you blame the other? Consider how the politics has changed over the last eighteen months, and maybe you'll see some conspiracies other than the mutant or human ones the media would have you believe.

"On another note, Senator Morrisen's untimely death last month seems to have had little impact on the political infrastructure behind the White House, with the other members, senators and uh, business men taking up the slack. Interestingly enough, Morrisen's replacement as senator, a naïve young man in his fifties, took over Morrisen's seat yesterday on a pro-mutant stand. Quite the reversal.

"Oh, and here's a thought. Timing. How far does coincidence stretch? Keep 'em coming kids, I'm drowning and I love it!"

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Mason Eckhart muttered to Brennan. "I really don't see why it's necessary for me to be here."

"Well, it was your idea," Brennan hissed back at him.

"And if you'd seen fit to inform me that your little doppelganger could impersonate Senator Langley, I would not have included myself in my plan, now would I?"

"But you already knew that Dale could impersonate anyone s/he's seen."

"Well I might have known, but you know full well that I've been somewhat under the weather recently."

Brennan sighed and decided that he wasn't going to win this. Since the Prozac Syndrome had passed Eckhart's episodes of confusion were growing less, almost in direct correlation with the slow decaying of his skin. But with a Michael Jackson surgical mask and Panama hat, he could get away with being an 'eccentric' in these halls of power.

After some persuasion, Dale had revealed that s/he knew where Emma was, as well as who she was, and although Brennan had the gut feeling that there was much the shifter wasn't telling them, they decided to go for a rescue attempt.

They'd arrived with the idea that they would sneak in but, ever helpful, Dale had taken the lead without giving notice. switching to the big burly security chief to get them inside and then to Langley to tour the halls. With Brennan zapping secured locks and cameras, they quickly found their way down to the lower levels.

Path pulled Emma from her concentrated focus to see the small group who had broken into their home, explaining that she saw a picture of Emma in their minds, especially the elemental's.

Emma felt a surge of happiness that Brennan had come to her, but as the group explored the three they quickly realised what the intruders intended to do.

"We have to get them out of here." Emma was abruptly deluged by the fear that consumed them all, herself included. "They mustn't take us away!"

Just the mere idea of being away from the machine was so horrific to each of them that they turned terrified thoughts inwards. Emma had to pull back. "No! We mustn't kill them, just stop them! Why didn't Dale tell us?"

"Push them out," agreed Path. "Dale is a free spirit, not controlled by me. I only offered hir a deal. Perhaps s/he saw no threat?"

"Perhaps," agreed Cog, "but nevertheless, they are a threat."

And the Psionic Circle pushed them away, focussing on propelling them out of the basement, then out of the building. They only relaxed when the three abandoned all thought of entering the place again, and disappeared into the city.

With Charlotte Cooke having been taken off-continent, it had taken Shalimar and her group a couple of weeks via the black market to get to the camp where she was apparently being held.

It was a work-camp mining industrial diamonds and the security was pretty lax, mostly because there was nowhere to run to. With desert for miles around, the only options were to stay in the camp or die in the unforgiving sands.

At least, that's how it appeared from the vantage point on top of the dune that Shalimar and Paulo looked down from. With the central block being guarded and clearly where the bulk of the mutants were kept, Shalimar felt ill, absently brushing away the blood she could feel on her skin again,.

She caught herself at Paulo's quiet cough, saw the look in his eyes and shivered. That hadn't happened for a while now and she wondered if she'd always feel it. Wondered if a mere touch would always send her back to that bloody hole she'd lived in.

But for now she had a job to do. Get one person out of there and back home where she could do most good by reversing what she'd done to Adam. Without the luxury of a lab to make up an antidote, Eckhart's half-wild plan seemed to make the most sense and Shalimar only hoped the Charlotte was in there, rescue-able and willing to help. She qualified herself with a wry smile. If the first two were achievable, then she would take great pleasure in ensuring the latter happened.

As they watched the camp, something odd seemed to be happening that they couldn't place. They couldn't see much detail; even Shalimar with her exceptional eyesight couldn't make out more than the odd gesture, but it seemed that one or two of the prisoners were very pally with their guards. Or maybe that shouldn't be such a surprise. A supply truck came and left near midday, but that was the only traffic there.

Still, they made their way to the camp under the dark of night, no moon to give them away. No one stopped them as they climbed quietly over the fence and into the compound; in fact, there was no one around at all.

The central building loomed. Shalimar couldn't bring herself to look inside so Paulo did, peering through a gap in the wall. And laughed.

"Do not be frightened, Chiquita, things are not as they seem," he said, motioning for her to look.

Heart battering at her rib cage, she swallowed hard and peeped in. The relief was immeasurable and she sagged back, Paulo catching her briefly before letting her go to lean against the wall. And as the shock overwhelmed her, she started giggling.

This wasn't a work-camp, it was a summer camp. The soldiers and the inmates were inside and getting along just fine. They were having a party, in fact, the supplies having included copious amounts of cheap vodka.

The door suddenly flung open. "Come on in, boys and girl," someone called, "we know you're out there!"

Shalimar, Paulo and one of his men stepped out while the other two remained hidden.

"And the other two!"

Guns were trained on them, and they all stood in silence before someone pushed through, a big bear of a man. "Shalimar Fox!" he said and raised his hand to the others on his side. "She has to be a friend, she helped set up the Freedom Fighters."

The camp's occupants lowered their weapons and went back to partying, ignoring the newcomers.

"Jeff?" asked Shalimar, taking a moment to place him, he was so far out of context. "You went with Emma! Do you know where she is?"

Jeff looked at her sadly. "We were captured. Julie and Emma were taken away. I was told that Emma was executed and, and…" Here the big man's face lost all life and hope. "They said that Julie tried to escape, tried to get to me…" He couldn't finish, but didn't need to.

Giving him a moment, Shalimar then asked, "What are you doing here? What's going on? We came here expecting to rescue, uh, someone, but it looks like you got it all under control."

Jeff shook his head. "We were lucky, overpowered the guards, but you know, where was there to go? There's the supply truck, is all. There's no one here who wants to fight any more. We talked with the soldiers and decided to sit the war out." Jeff shrugged. "We don't know who we're fighting anymore, what's wrong, what's right, and our loved ones are either dead or wish we were."

"It's always worth fighting for your rights," Shalimar told him. "Always. And don't you want to find out what happened to Julie? Maybe she did die, or maybe they were messing with your mind. I'm not going to stop looking for Emma or the others until I see undeniable proof with my own eyes."

"You think maybe Julie's still alive?" A brief glimmer of hope in his eyes made Shalimar wince.

"Quite honestly? I don't know. But if someone thought that telling you that would break you, why not?"

And hope flared bright.

"So," continued Shalimar, "I don't suppose one of these party people would by any remote chance be a mutant by the name of Charlotte Cooke? We'd kinda quite like to take her home with us."

Jeff grinned. "Funny you should mention her. She would do almost anything to get out of here. Give me ten minutes and we'll be ready to go."

"We?" Shalimar raised her eyebrow.

Jeff's grin broadened and he suddenly looked ten years younger. "Charlotte's a little fragile, needs a big strong man to take care of her."

Paulo's eyebrows also rose, but he had the common sense to stay quiet.

Jesse didn't really care much for the outside world as it only brought pain, uncertainty and humiliation. He knew there'd been a change of things, because Adam came in to see him periodically instead of Morrisen, but the rules remained much the same.

Adam looked vaguely familiar but, being unable to place him, Jesse didn't worry about it, especially when Cyber told him he was okay. But also, the man himself didn't bother him like Morrisen had, just came in for a report once in a while and that was all.

In cyberspace, however, things were a lot different. Cyber helped him with whatever he was doing, but she was more like an imp playing a game than someone out to actively assist him. Still, she was fun, and speeded up his manoeuvres.

And he was almost there.

It was like a game of chess, and that was something he was very good at. But so was his opponent.

He could see his victory in just a couple of moves, but he could also see that the other could also block and win too, which he had to prevent.

Distraction.

He threw in a diversion, but was distracted himself. Proxy Blue continued to fascinate him. She talked about a world that was so far outside his own it made for compelling listening. He could verify a lot of her words by surfing other sites, and found himself missing things, few of which he could relate to.

One such thing, and perhaps the biggest he could identify, was the yearning for human company. Proxy talked at him, and Cyber played with him, while Adam was just cold. Morrisen may have been a bastard, but at least he'd paid Jesse some attention which he'd both loathed and craved. He was so lonely for some genuinely caring kind of contact it actually hurt.

Seeing his opponent's block stopped in its tracks, Jesse went for the killing blow, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

Proxy had her own servers that were only loosely tied in with Cyberteam's, like they were allies but not the same thing.

He couldn't make a decision as such, because he wasn't allowed. But he could take his orders to the letter. He'd been ordered to acquire Cyberteam, not Proxy Blue. Never even mentioned her in his reports as it hadn't been relevant until now, and no one had asked. He would have told them if they'd asked.

So following the decision he hadn't made, he cut Proxy Blue loose before unleashing the killing blow on the Cyberteam Central Control.

Within seconds, the all-clear codes had been over-written and released with a new Central Control. And when he saw the acknowledgements from the other members, it felt so right he almost smiled a genuine smile.

Chapter 8: Month 7  
\+ Month 7  
Proxy Blue was face forward and static, almost as if in mourning. "With thanks to all you cub reporters out there, I have a little backlog. The news obviously never sleeps, however this girl does. So, for now I only have one thing to say. Cyberteam has been in invaded by an outside source. Don't know who and I don't know how, but sources tell me the foreign body's gone straight to the core. Hear me, techno-dweebs? Like a famous Fox, not of the feral kind, once said a few times; Trust No One. Not even me."

Lena unplugged her palmtop from the motel room phone jack and, composing herself, left for her car, quickly driving away from the place.

She and Nora had been so completely locked out of Cyberteam that the invading force had to have been an inside job. But the only person inside who had enough information was herself. And Nora. But she could vouch for both of them.

Since Proxy was so clinically separated, it was clearly Cyberteam the opposition had wanted, and she'd left a distraught Nora with her now useless machines to run, before someone came looking for her. She'd told Nora to run too, and the girl had grinned and gone with an assurance that said she had a back up plan to keep her safe.

There were psionic cyberpaths and Lena wondered if one of them had been responsible, but the whole structure of Cyberteam was compartmentalised; a foreign source could certainly take down one part, but not the whole thing, not that smoothly. As Sherlock Holmes said, once you've eliminated the obvious, whatever's left must be the truth.

The original creator of Cyberteam. Who would maybe, possibly, have wanted control of his creation back. But surely he'd have asked Nora for control? Unless he thought the Cyberteam was compromised. Unless he himself was compromised. The latter being much more likely since Cyberteam's original Central Control had been taken down months ago, the Kilmartin boy paraded out by Langley at every possible occasion. Except that he'd been noticeably absent the last few weeks. The rumour mill had it that the boy had some strange mutant illness or something equally as manufactured.

In a similar vein she went back to the original Cyberteam Central. She hadn't back there since she'd been scavenging and run into Mulwray, but this time she was hoping to run into him. Mulwray would be able to tell her if Kilmartin was back in play. Mulwray might even have a corner with a secure phone jack where she might set up Proxy. And, just maybe, without having to run Cyberteam as well, she could concentrate on finding exactly what had happened to Darius.

"We have got to take that meddling woman out of commission!" Adam ranted as he stood behind Jesse's chair. "I want you to find and destroy her."

Jesse said nothing. It was usually better that way.

"And keep Cyberteam running. I don't want anything to confirm what she's said, so we'll keep it going for a while until any panic is forgotten."

For a moment Jesse still didn't say anything. Adam liked an acknowledgement when he was done, so when Jesse was certain that Adam had finished he said, "Yes, sir."

Normally then the door opened, shut and locked, but this time it didn't. "Are you getting fed?" the older man said.

"Yes Sir." Jesse was puzzled. Every time he came out of his cyber world there was a fresh tray of food waiting for him.

"All righty." Then Adam went and Cyber was waiting for him. Cyberteam was virtually running itself, and he had no intention of tracking Proxy down and even less intention of worrying about the repercussions of not telling Adam that. He wanted to go have fun and feel what it was like to live.

"Well, so this is it." Eckhart gestured contemptuously at the people grouped in the polythene-clad room. "One elemental who keeps short-circuiting…"

"And I love you too," Brennan muttered under his breath.

"One specimen that doesn't know who or what it is…" Eckhart waved at the Shalimar that was purring on the seat besides Brennan, "and one that has groupies attached to her rear-end." He waved at the Shalimar that scowled from the doorway, Paolo at her side and the others arguing in the kitchen over cookie dough.

Eckhart glared at the corner. "And some random woman sitting in the corner typing an essay. Who are you, and what exactly are you doing in my living room?"

Lena looked up, startled. "Erm…"

"I brought her here," Brennan said. "She's doing some computer work for us."

Eckhart sighed. "Private militia, freaks and now techno geeks. My life is complete. But I suppose she helps with the numbers. Here, I thought you might like these." He threw something onto the table.

Brennan opened it cautiously and everyone stared at what was revealed, resting inside the battered container. "You went to Sanctuary?" he asked.

"Well, obviously," Eckhart snapped, but didn't elaborate.

"Ooh, can I have one?" Dale asked, sliding over to the table as s/he changed into Sean Bean's Boromir and reached to take one of the silver rings.

Shalimar moved almost faster than light to grab Dale's wrist. "Not on your life," she hissed. She snapped the box closed and gave it back to Eckhart. "We're still missing three," she said simply.

Chapter 9: Month 8  
\+ Month 8  
Proxy Blue was back to her animated self, sneering out from the TV screen. "You know what, people, this girl is so impressed. The aftermath of the Prozac Syndrome was a little rocky, but with few exceptions it's good to see you all getting it together. I hear somewhere out west the local humans went and freed the mutants from a quarry, and now they're all working together to make it a proper working plant again. The soldiers guarding the place apparently had orders not to resist any activities of this kind. This is not the only place this is happening, and I've gotta wonder if this is a co-ordinated effort, or just coincidence?

"Those at the top seem completely unaware of what's happening out on the street and it's this reporter's opinion that there's something going on up there that we all need to be keeping our eyes on. I love all this good news, kids, but I need the juicy stuff!"

Shalimar couldn't help looking sideways at Dale in the passenger seat. They were parked up the road from the old members' club where Lena had told them the Inner Circle was based, waiting for Adam to show up. While she didn't fully trust Lena, or Dale, or Eckhart, in these times she had no choice but to take them at their word and cover her back as much as possible.

Dale, however, was doing a damned fine impression of Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop and Shalimar found it creepy the way s/he kept imitating the feral's own body every time Brennan was around. And Brennan wasn't objecting.

It was no skin off Shalimar's nose if Dale and Brennan got it together, and with Dale switching genders it would be an interesting sex life, but she really got severely creeped out by the idea that it was copy of her body being used. That's if something were happening. Which it might not be.

Dale's gaze grew intense as s/he squinted out front. "Adam's here," s/he said, excitedly

Shalimar followed hir gaze, and watched Adam paying off a cab driver before walking into the building. She hit a number on her mobile. "He's in."

Lena had hacked into the building systems and would set off some internal distractions while they used the ID's she'd set up to get some of them through security - they didn't dare assume that the Langley trick would work more than once. During the preliminary reconnaissance, she'd also found links that strongly suggested that the Cyberteam interloper was working from inside.

Charlotte had been pretty subdued, helping Lena and letting Paulo coddle her, something which Shalimar felt a small pang of jealousy over. Now, Paulo came by the car and swapped places with Shalimar who walked over to a café bar and met Brennan there. The two put the earpieces to their mobile phones in, dialling into a conference call so they could all stay in touch. Without the sophisticated equipment of Sanctuary or Genomex, it was the best alternative they could come up with.

While Dale, Paulo and the boys took Eckhart in the front door to find Adam, Brennan and Shalimar did a little B&E round the back, intending to try and break the Psionic Circle apart. The security system was average, and certainly not built to resist an elemental with a talent for being sneaky or a feral with perfect balance.

There were alarms going off inside but they were elevator alarms, as it seemed that they'd all become stuck at once. Shalimar's idea and Lena's work. The panic from any claustrophobes would help hide anything any psionics might pick up on.

Brennan led the way towards the basement, but as they reached the first of the lower levels Shalimar's eyes flashed at the familiar scent that hit her.

"Jesse's here," she stated. "I'll see you down there." She didn't give Brennan a chance to object, slipping through fire doors and disappearing down a corridor. She found the locked steel door, even found the person bringing food with the key in his pocket. Opened the door and found Jesse there, hands in VR gloves, head in VR helmet.

The Cyberteam logo flashed at the top right of the monitor, although the rest of the screen was moving too fast for her to see. And from that one symbol she had to assume that Jesse was back in control of Cyberteam. But from this locked room? Inside the inner Circle?

She could see his SGFlex, but decided against removing it for the moment, her gut instinct yelling that something was very wrong.

A sudden shift told her that Jesse was back with the real world, and she watched him carefully for clues. He looked healthy enough, if a little on the lean side, and definitely tired, and the blue eyes that sparkled with humour when she got her first glimpse of them quickly dulled and glazed over.

He looked at her expectantly.

"I've uh…" She felt a bit awkward, as though he were judging her. "I've come to get you out of here."

"I'm not allowed," Jesse told her flatly.

Very, very wrong.

"Jess, it's me. We can do anything, remember?"

He blinked slowly at her. "I don't know you. And I can't leave without Victoria."

"Oh, for –" she cursed and pulled her hair in frustration. "I don't have time for this." Spinning, she kicked him in the gut and followed up with a stunning blow to the back of his neck. "You're out of practice, kiddo. Time was, you'd never have let me get away with that."

She was about to pick him up and take him outside when the Cyberteam logo still flashing caught her eye. The Command matrix was still open on the machine, so it didn't take her more than a moment to open it up for remote access. Lena grabbed it, rerouted and yelled 'Got it!" down the phone.

And then all hell broke lose. Almost in unison, the building started to shake and Brennan screamed, long and loud.

Brennan was in trouble and she needed to go help him, because there was no one else. But she couldn't do that with an unconscious Jesse, and she couldn't leave him here.

She had to choose, and it tore her apart.

Jesse was safer here than Brennan was down there.

So that was her choice.

The Psionic Circle was dying. They'd been in panic as the sprinklers had suddenly gone off, threatening to short-circuit some of their hard wiring, but good little puppets with extinguishers had seen to them, and the overwhelming fear of those in the elevators had forced them to throw shields up that muted not only the hysteria but also every other sense they had extended.

And then Brennan with his sparks came in and fried their circuits. The only reason they weren't taking out their rage on him was because his own powers had backfired, his streams of electricity pouring out uncontrollably, destroying him, destroying them, and his mind was on such all-encompassing fire that they couldn't get in, and they were dying too, the machine was dying and taking them with it.

"We have to leave the machine!" Emma cried, even though her entire being screamed that she couldn't live without it. "We can build another!"

"No!" screamed Path. Always the voice of reason among them, her vehemence was shocking. "I've worked too hard for too long to get this kind of strength and power, I'm not giving it up now! I will not be a victim again!"

Emma even felt herself, swept along with the others' agreement, feeling suddenly bitter. She'd looked out for Brennan, always, and now he'd done this. Not only had she had Cyber watch over Jesse, but on her behalf, once they'd realised that Brennan had hir, Path'd had Dale look out for him. So they felt betrayed by both Dale and Brennan and wanted, needed to lash out at both of them.

Except the pressure was building up as the electricity bit into their hardware and they needed to get out now before their brains exploded. But Path and Kin and the others would not move. Cyber was already shrieking in agony, her affinity with the machinery making her a direct conductor, both physically and mentally. And Emma couldn't bear her pain.

"I'm leaving," she told Path. "I'm taking Cyber; she's a child and deserves more than this, and you won't stop me."

Path and Kin, and the others to a lesser extent, threw anger and frustration and threats at her, but Emma stood her ground. "Please, let us go, can't you feel her agony?"

"We feel what you do, you know that," Path cried, "but we need your strength, both of you."

"Staying here will kill us all."

Blue fire cracked and snapped viciously around them, then Path sighed and the seven shared what amounted to a mental hug, a sharing of supportive feelings and thoughts and wishes and promises. "Take Cyber and go. We'll hold back to give you as much time as possible before the machine brings the building down."

"Path…" Emma tried to think of anything to make them all come with her, but they'd read her before she finished as they always had.

"No, Em. We'd rather die than leave here," Path said. And then they were gone and she was sitting in the chair. And it didn't hit her until she'd left her cubicle to find Cyber that she'd never feel the five women who'd been an integral and intimate part of her for so long, again.

Brennan was being ripped apart from the inside out and was helpless to prevent it as his worst nightmare came true. His powers were being used against him by his own body. Worse than being a victim, he was becoming a victim to himself.

And he would not let that happen again.

He could let it all burn out and hope the process didn't kill him, but he'd fought all his life for one thing or another and that was not a route he was willing to go down. So he used the fire burning along his nerve endings to take him to the core of his being, used the pain to bolster his failing determination, and wrestled for control over his own powers.

It hurt more physically than he'd ever dreamed possible, but it was worse mentally as memories of his time in the power station assaulted him. He'd pushed that whole thing to the back of his mind, pretended it hadn't happened, but it had and now it was back and threatened to pull him back into a maelstrom of unresolved anger and feeling of entrapment and victimisation. But he needed to get to his powers, face that same maelstrom and reach right through it to find them.

God, but it burned, and he pushed his way through, not stopping to really look at what was there, promising himself he'd deal with them later, even though he knew it was a promise he'd never keep. But he made progress anyway, breaking through to find the blue globe of energy that lived there, that gave him control. And he powered down, ending up exhausted and shaking on the floor.

Then Shalimar was there urging him to get up, protecting him from falling debris that would have sliced into him had she not been there to kick it away.

He didn't know where he got the strength from, but if Shal said move, he was gonna move.

Shalimar helped the stumbling Brennan up the stairs out of the Basement as the building shook and plaster cracked around them. The going was too slow and she tried to hurry the elemental, but the big guy was hurting and shaking and so weak right now.

She willed, and chivvied and supported him up to Jesse's level and left him in the stairwell while she dashed off to find Jesse. She had no idea how she was going to get them both out, but she had to try. She couldn't let either one of them join the blood and rot her mind still taunted her with.

Skidding to a halt she screamed in denial at the fallen ceiling that blocked her way. She couldn't get to Jesse, had no choice but to leave him behind now. She should have taken him to the stairwell before, and she hadn't, and now she couldn't get to him.

Jesse lurched up from the floor, his gut and shoulder aching, and checked out his computer. He was locked out of Cyberteam, and there was no sign of Cyber. A surge of rage welled up in him. The bitch cat had taken away everything that had meant anything to him.

Except Victoria.

She would come for him. Except, with the building falling down, maybe she couldn't, maybe he'd have to find her.

The door was open. He could go. Maybe he should. But he hadn't been told he could. At least, not by anyone he'd been told he should listen to. The bitch cat said he could, but she didn't count did she? It was all so confusing.

A cracking sound and the he looked up to see the ceiling starting to fall.

He wasn't allowed to make decisions, certainly not big ones. But Victoria surely wouldn't mind if he kept himself safe, would she?

So, tentatively, he crept out of his room, and down the corridor, away from the ceiling that chose to fall, taking half his room with it and covering him with plaster.

Coughing, he kept going, passing several people who were running in different directions in their bids to escape the building. He was moving through a dusty foggy dream world he didn't understand. And then to his enormous relief Victoria was there. With Raymond.

But something was wrong.

Victoria lay next to the wall, blood oozing from a cut in her scalp where she'd clearly been hit by debris. Raymond was on his hands and knees over her, protecting her and begging her to wake him.

She couldn't be dead. She wasn't allowed to be.

Jesse touched her throat nervously, but Ray didn't stop him, so he grew a little more confident, smiling as he found a pulse. He wondered that Ray hadn't done that himself, but the relief that shone on the other man's face made his own pale in comparison.

Victoria mumbled and sighed but didn't wake up.

"She's letting you go," Ray told him suddenly. "I don't want you near her, and she doesn't want you anymore."

"What? But I, I –" More worlds crashing apart.

"Trust me," hissed Ray. "You'll thank me for this later," and grabbed Jesse's head, pushing forehead to forehead. "No time for finesse."

White noise, red rage and silent black, one after another then crashing together, and when Jesse came to, it was in time to see Raymond carrying the limp Victoria away.

Adam wasn't quite sure what was happening. He didn't care for the politics, and had only popped by to run the daily maintenance on the Psionic Circle on his way to LexMor to continue his research into finding a more terminal solution to the mutant problem. But from the moment he'd entered things had been odd.

Various malfunctions meant that he hadn't gone directly down to the basement, instead opting for the members lounge to see who was there.

He found Langley and one of her minions, unsurprisingly since she spent most of her waking life here, plus a couple of others.

"Well, well," said Mason Eckhart, coming in behind him, surrounded by flunkies. "How very nice to see you again."

"Need a little help?" Adam replied, scratching at his chin whilst looked directly at Eckhart's ravaged face.

"Oh, just a minor little set back. It'll all be dealt with once you get around to giving me back Genomex. But, look at you. Big fish in the little pond here, aren't you?"

"I see your inner bitch hasn't changed then," Adam retorted. "What can I do for you before I have you ejected."

Eckhart was about to reply, but that was when the walls thumped and started shaking.

The California-raised Langley was insistent that it was just a little tremor, despite her minion's statement that they were nowhere near San Andreas.

"Oh, I expect it's just a little molecular having a tantrum somewhere," she said airily, putting her tea down smartly as it sloshed about. "I just hope it's over before I stain something."

But it only got worse, and Adam dived past Eckhart to get to the basement.

Eckhart put his surgical mask back on and said, "I think we'll come back another day," before marching out, just in time as the front doorway collapsed. He could hear Langley screeching as Raymond tried to physically haul her to safety.

Waiting outside, they listened to Brennan and Shalimar still inside, Paulo and Dale both ready to dive in and pull their comrades out.

Emma's shields had never been so strong, nor raised so high as she blocked out the people round her. She couldn't feel the pain of her psionic sisters, they were shielding her from that, but she knew they were in agony.

She carried the unconscious Cyber as best she could. The kid turned out to be all of around ten years old, and at that age was big enough to cause her problems, forcing her to stop and rearrange the girl at every opportunity.

Rounding a corner she collided with Jesse. "We have to get out of here," he told her, but didn't seem to have any plan as to how to accomplish that. Neither did she, for that matter, and giggled at the thought of them both with matching scattered wits.

"This is Cyber," she said as she lost her grip again, letting the girl slip bonelessly to the floor. "Look after her for me?"

Smiling slightly, he heaved the girl over his shoulder in a fireman's left. "Okay, well, do you know how we get out of here? It's like a maze."

"Not a clue. Hug a wall and see where it takes us?"

Finding another stairwell, they climbed up, only to meet Adam on his way down.

"Emma!" Adam looked shocked.

"The Circle's gone," she told him, "We need to get out of here."

Back to Brennan, and Shalimar pushed and pulled him out, dust getting everywhere resulting in bloodshot tearing eyes and choking lungs.

Even outside, they daren't stop; the building was crumbling, bricks dropping and windows caving. They needed to get out of the way.

Stumbling along with blurred vision, they prayed that the others had made it out, until hands caught them, and Dale and Paulo were there for them, and none of then could understand why Shalimar clung to Brennan and Paulo, refusing to look at the disintegrating building.

Emma screamed when the Circle finally gave up; even Cyber screamed without waking up as Jesse and Adam pulled them out, far away from Eckhart or his flunkies.

The other side of the block, Dale clutched hir ears, hir scream silent and deafening. Anyone within the district with the slightest psionic bent felt their pain.

And then it was gone, and all that was left was one block of devastation.

Chapter 10: Month 9  
\+ Month 9  
"Well, good people, things are really shaking upstairs," Proxy Blue told her viewers. "Martial law is still in place, but the White House and Senate restructuring that's being going on since the destruction of what has commonly been dubbed the Inner Circle has ensured that all laws invoked since the beginning have been revoked. And the President today read out the Constitution across the major networks in a bid assure the people that proper democratic process was being put back in place, that mutants have the same rights as humans.

"Nicely naïve and what the people want to hear, but I think we all know it's not going work out like that; ingrained prejudices and fear of the unknown will prevent it, but we're headed in the right direction. One at a time, and under controlled conditions, the mutant slave workers are being released from various industrial encampments, and elementals are being asked to volunteer their services to help keep generators going while repairs are made as fast as possible in order to release those still in enforced service.

"And talking of the Inner Circle fiasco, it's been confirmed that although injuries were minor, there were five mutant bodies discovered. The Mayor was quick to pledge support from both humans and mutants to the families of the deceased.

"Anyone ever wonder what Genomex and LexMor are up to these days? They used to be rival companies, both dedicated toward genetic research, but now come under the same CEO, a renowned geneticist in his own right. Could make interesting reading. Keep 'em coming kids, it's all good stuff!"

All of them were quiet and introspective, each with their own problems, any bond between them seemingly shattered in the aftermath of the Inner Circle's demise. It wasn't supposed to have gone down like that, and Brennan wandered the streets as he tried to deal with his guilt.

He'd meant for his little spark to short-circuit some hardware, never expecting it to feedback and nuke his SGFlex.

Because of him, five women were dead, Shalimar was killing herself with guilt over Jesse and Dale just seemed lost. And Adam was holed up in Genomex, inventing ways to kill mutants.

"Hey, penny for them!" a familiar voice called from above. Brennan looked up and Kathy dropped to the ground from the fire escape. "You don't hold a grudge do you?" she asked, her smile sly.

In a flash he had her up against the wall, fighting to keep his temper in check as he came close to throttling her. "Do you have any fucking idea what you put me through? Even one tiny clue how many people have died, or suffered because of you?"

Kathy squirmed and tried to reply, but her air was almost entirely blocked. Brennan kept her there for a second, then dropped her.

She rubbed her throat and stood shakily. "Guess I deserved that, huh?" she croaked. "I'm sorry you suffered, Brennan, we had good times. And I'm sorry about the people who lost out over the Underground. But I'm not sorry for being who I am. It's all about wealth, and we got it. Your team of thieves remember? We're going strong. Help one side, help the other, make a little money here and there. Just like we did when we helped out your techno-geek friend."

"And that's meant to make it all better?" Brennan asked bitterly. "Propagating the war? And playing both sides against the middle, I'd bet too."

Kathy shrugged. "Thought it might help."

"You. Might help you. It doesn't help me. Now just fuck off, and if I ever see you again, I will kill you." His temper was on a very short fuse, and in his eyes she was a traitor and a murderer.

"Hey, you might think you're a hero, but you're really still just a glorified criminal," she taunted. In another life, he might have wondered just what she was trying to accomplish. In this life, however, he had too much pressure built up inside him. "I can still have you arrested for a whole host of thievery, you know," she continued, and he stopped hearing the words as a red haze come over him and he just cut loose.

He didn't aim especially well, but he heard her scream as she went flying back down the alley. She might've died or she might've just been stunned. He didn't care, and walked away.

Shalimar's guilt had temporarily been assuaged by Eckhart and Lena's discovery that both Emma and Jesse were both alive and with Adam at Genomex.

Paulo was spending more and more time with Charlotte, his men finding interests elsewhere, and Brennan seemed to prefer his own company, leaving her with Dale who didn't seem to know what to do with hirself.

The shape shifter couldn't seem to settle on one body to wear, constantly changing. It seemed that s/he'd been captive virtually hir whole life one way or another, constantly being told who to be, and now that s/he was free of Path's influence, s/he didn't know what to do.

Spending time with the shifter slowly brought the feral's compassionate nature back to the fore as she helped the other form the beginnings of an identity for hirself. S/he'd thought hirself female at first, and had started off borrowing Shalimar's body, with her permission this time. But they then decided that that was because s/he'd had more practice at being female. In the end, like working their way through an entire wardrobe, Dale settled on a boy in his late teens, about hir own age. Based on someone he'd seen in the street, they'd spent hours in front of the mirror as he changed his hair and eye colour, altered the shape of his nose slightly and straightened the teeth, before he was happy.

"And now you're unique two ways, which is more than most of us," Shalimar told him after they'd dressed him in some of Paulo's men's clothes.

"Two ways?" Dale asked.

"Sure. You get your mutant side, and you also got your own human side. You just gotta work on being your own man." She was taken by surprise when the boy threw himself at her, enveloping her in a huge hug.

But after hesitating, she returned it, expecting to see the blood crawling up her arms. But it didn't, so she hugged him harder.

When Eckhart was satisfied that his team had pulled themselves back together sufficiently enough to function, he sent an ultimatum to Adam.

He would get Genomex back.

And he didn't want it destroyed, so he invited Adam to face him on the top of the old Weisengard building. Big and abandoned, in the middle of nowhere, no fear that any fallout might instigate anti-mutant feelings.

Jesse spent his spare time working out. He didn't remember anything from the last few months, his last clear memory being of standing in Senator Langley's hallway dripping mud and dirt.

He remembered the mines, but didn't remember much about the interrogation before that. He'd thought Adam had been there, but then again he'd thought his long-deceased mother had been there too. It felt odd that home was Genomex for the time being, but with Adam working in a lab and Emma meditating in a room she'd decorated with flowers, he could kind of settle here.

He was well aware of the need to get Shalimar and Brennan out from Eckhart's influence, and Adam promised him that day would come and soon. When they were back to par. The SGFlex that had kept his powers dormant had been removed, and Jesse never realised that he'd ever miss his powers so much. It felt good to be able to move where he wanted, or protect himself and others from harm.

But he felt constantly filthy. Not the filth of good honest dirt, but the filth of violation.

Emma had told him that, in the time he couldn't remember, he'd been violated repeatedly. And not to worry about it unduly, that it would come back to him to deal as and when he was ready. She'd always been spot on in the past so he didn't argue, just maybe took the odd shower or three more then necessary.

Emma had been his biggest worry. For days after they'd come here, she'd been wracked with chills and fever. Adam just said it was a withdrawal from the psionic group, that she needed to cold turkey. It had turned out that Adam was right, as per usual, but that didn't stop Jesse from hating that the older man couldn't or wouldn't help her.

He was the one holding her while she shook herself apart, or keeping her clean while she puked violently into the toilet, and he was the one mopping her brow when the sweat was running off her in rivers. And that was just the physical side. Her nightmares implied that whatever was happening in her head was far, far worse.

Nursemaid was not something he was good at and, while he worried over Emma, he also resented that no one more, uh, qualified, was willing to help out. Especially as there was another patient. Emma had told him that Cyber was a good friend to them both. He didn't remember the kid, though, and to be honest she was just a little strange.

Same as Emma, she went through withdrawal, but hers was much shorter and milder, and as soon as she was up and about, she was never more than a couple of feet away from Jesse. Which was cute. And annoying. Especially as Cyber never, ever said a word. But then again, for the longest time, the kid was his only real lucid company.

The rest of the staff here looked like they thought he was going to suck their brains out, Emma was just vacant a lot of the time and Adam was closeted up in his lab.

On top of that, Adam had warned him off the PC's. He balked initially, but Adam had explained that too much of his time over the last few months had been spent in VR and he needed to get rid of the light sensitivity he'd developed, as well retrain muscles and practice his fighting and power related skills. Added to that the fact that their two resident psionics were both suffering from overload, it would be a really bad idea to let Cyber anywhere near a PC for her own good.

That had worked for a while, but he was back to par and Emma could look after Cyber. Except that Emma kept losing the kid who always turned up just as he was about to log in somewhere. Aggravating and frustrating, and Jesse just wanted to get out here and kick ass.

Adam was confusing himself. He quite honestly didn't know what he wanted anymore. He had to eradicate his mistakes, make sure no more mutants were born or developed, but the destruction of the Psionic Circle had made him realise that he didn't actually hate mutants. Quite frankly, he was indifferent to most. But the seven in the Circle he'd come to know somewhat. Especially Path and Kin, and Em who he already knew.

So when he'd met Emma and Cyber in the stairwell, he'd felt the urge to get them to safety. Jesse too, to a lesser extent. And when they'd died, he'd known. Not like Emma and Cyber had. But like he'd lost some good friends.

And now he found that he remembered that he actually liked Jesse and Emma; even the child was endearing.

Jesse didn't seem to be able to recall anything, so he'd spoken with Emma and they'd agreed that it was best to keep him away from computers and foreign psionics, and preferably sharp objects, until they knew whether the memories were likely to come back again.

Emma herself was cold towards him, and he was well aware that she bore a passionate hatred for him, but that she needed the Sanctuary he had to offer. She'd agreed to a truce between them until such time as she was recovered and they had Shalimar back from Eckhart's clutches. It was interesting to note that she didn't mention Brennan, and Adam filed that away for another time.

When Adam received Eckhart's ultimatum, he realised that if he didn't take it up then Eckhart would try and take Genomex by force. But if he did take it up, then at least the prize would be intact for the victor, and he'd be left alone to do what he needed to do.

Chapter 11: Month 10  
\+ Month 10  
Proxy Blue looked at her viewers in silence for a moment. "I'm not gonna bore you with the same ole same ole. But I will just say this. Keep your ears to the ground, people, cuz big things are happening. And don't forget to tell me what you hear."

It was Brennan that fired the first shot.

And Jesse that blocked it.

Six of them standing on top of the Weisengard building, a structure famous for never having been completed, with the top two stories made up of iron girders and half a flat roof, squaring off against each other. Jeff, Paulo and his men protected Charlotte, Lena and Dale in one corner, but they seemed to sense that this was not their battle.

This was a battle between long time friends and enemies.

From Eckhart's side, it was all about getting Adam either killed or captured so Charlotte could do her magic, and Genomex would be open for the taking. From Adam's it was all about getting Genomex. Neither man cared that much for their pawns; they liked them maybe, but in the end they were just pawns.

Yet, none of the four wanted to hurt any of the others. Each wanted to get their friends and make them safe. But they each had a job to do.

And unseen in a dark corner Cyber, having stowed away in the transport, stood quiet.

Eckhart and Adam talked about Genomex for the longest time, until Adam told Emma to just knock Eckhart out.

And Brennan fired at Adam in response.

But Jesse blocked it.

Emma retaliated, stunning Brennan.

Shalimar leapt for Emma.

And they were squared off.

Neither wanting to hurt the other, Shalimar held back and Emma refused to use her powers, both opting for the cat-fight option. Shalimar had the natural advantage but Emma fought dirty, each trying to put the other woman out of action long enough to take down their General. Persuasive words were lost in howls and screams of pain as Paulo's men took bets.

Brennan and Jesse were involved in a stalemate, Brennan unable to get past Jesse's massed self. The molecular was fast, always moving to block him and timing his breaths to coincide with Brennan's recharges. It was almost like being back at Sanctuary, trying to take each other down. Jesse didn't have a second to waste to keep up with Brennan, no opening ever coming up to knock Brennan out of the game. The only way to do it would be to phase him through the floor, but as he didn't want to kill the elemental all he could do was dodge and block.

But Brennan was winning the verbal war.

Throwing at him the ideas that he'd been used and abused over the last twelve months, saying things that he didn't know if they were true or not, but would explain at least some of why he felt so dirty. And splinters of memory flashed, confirming a fragment here and there.

But that didn't mean he missed a beat, let it distract him. Not even when Brennan accused Adam of using him too, because Adam wouldn't ever do that. It was Eckhart that had brainwashed Brennan and Shalimar.

Shalimar pinned Emma to the ground. "I don't want to hurt you, Em!"

"Don't ever call me that again!" Emma's eyes flashed as anger overtook her, and even though Shalimar knew it wasn't real she couldn't help clawing at her throat as the noose tightened, suffocating her.

Suffocating, drowning in blood, not again, never again.

Instead of fighting her fear, she reached beyond that to find her strength and lashed out, catching Emma behind the knees, and the illusion vanished, Emma was stunned, and before the telempath could recover, Shalimar had her in a back breaking neck-lock.

"You don't wanna hit me with anything right now, kiddo, 'cause if I get startled, your spine is so much jello."

Emma's cry almost distracted Jesse for a second, but his temper was riding as high as Brennan's own. With everything the elemental was feeling, he just wanted give it everything he had, but Jesse didn't deserve that, no matter how deluded he was. And besides, he'd didn't really know how much the molecular's massed form could take.

But he knew that Jesse was holding back too, knew that he could be lying a hundred feet below, or out of it with a crushed skull from a massed fist. They were both playing for stalemate and that was what they were getting. That had to end, but he'd tried the verbal assault as soon as he'd picked up on the surprised look that passed so fast across Jesse's face when he'd mentioned being Langley's lapdog, like he didn't know. But when he wanted, Jesse's walls could be as solid as his massed form, and after the initial surprise that was exactly what the molecular had done.

So Brennan prepared to take the biggest chance he'd ever done, take the risk that this time he'd get it right, built the energy up and timed it to Jesse's breath. Waited until the other man massed, then hit him long and hard, not with everything, but making his flow of electricity grow bigger and harder, pushing Jesse back, moving them off the battlefield, opening the door to get to Adam. Yet, he had to work hard to retain some kind of tenuous control on so much power, he needed to shut off before Jesse had to take breath, yet after they'd moved far enough away.

Then Jesse changed, switched from mass to phase. But perhaps he miscalculated how quickly he could do it, or maybe Brennan had thought Jesse could hold it longer - it wasn't like he actually had a stopwatch on him.

Whatever the problem, Jesse flew backwards in a shower of sparks and was left groaning on his hands and knees. And with Emma down, the way was open to take Adam down.

"Now," said Adam reasonably, "you wouldn't want to hurt a kid, would you?"

Brennan backed off, wondering where the girl had come from. "Shit, Adam, I actually believe Eckhart's crap now," he said, somewhat taken aback.

"I take it you had some doubts, Mr Mulwray," said Eckhart. "And you didn't deign to share them? For shame."

"I always have doubts," Brennan replied, "so don't let it go to your head. What happens now?"

"Now, Adam gives me Genomex and I leave you children to sort your own squabbles out."

"Not on your life," Adam replied. "You can do what you like, but I'm not giving you squat. I'll stop these freaks if it's the last thing I do!"

"Charlotte!" Eckhart called, but Adam shook his head.

"Oh no, you're not having her touch me!" He backed away towards the works lift, the girl in front of him, and hit the down button.

"After him!" They started after him, but suddenly Emma and Jesse were between them and the car that was just disappearing.

"Like hell!" spat Jesse, and Brennan waved him aside, striding towards them.

"Come off it, Jess, I –"

He fell, pole-axed, and Emma's triumphant smile was full of malice.

"Don't follow us," said Jesse calmly. "He's ours to deal with."

"We all need to fix this," Shalimar said, trying to draw nearer. "It's not just you guys."

"Yes, it is," said Jesse. "This is for me and Emma to fix."

Shalimar started forward, but Jesse phased the floor. Below there was a mishmash of iron girders, flooring and steel support spikes sticking up, and the gap was too big. So she waited till Jesse had to let the floor go, let it spring back.

Jesse backed off from the phased area, and it stayed. He grinned at her complete shock then grabbed Emma's hand, phased them both and jumped.

There was a few seconds of stunned silence before the floor suddenly snapped back.

Looking over the edge, Shalimar was just in time to see Emma and Jesse climb from the top of the car to two floors below.

Running across to the diagonally opposite corner, she dived down the stairwell there, hearing Lena ask, "Where did Dale go?"

Emma and Jesse made their way over the abandoned works, catching glimpses of Adam as he headed towards the stairwell at the opposite side. Surely the man must realise that Eckhart's crew would be there before him, so surely he had a plan.

Giggling, Emma saw any plan Adam may have had vanish when Cyber, pissed at being separated from Jesse, bit him hard enough that Adam roared in pain. Hard enough that Adam lashed out and sent her flying into the base of a column.

She heard Jesse curse and felt her own anger flare, along with all the other things she'd deliberately repressed. This was the man who had betrayed her, put her through all that pain, and the one who she blamed, perhaps not directly, but certainly indirectly, for taking her away from the Circle. What seemed like a long time ago, she'd promised the Circle that Adam would die once his use was over, and now was the time. He would not use or destroy her or her kind again. She simply would not permit it.

They stopped briefly to check on Cyber, the sight of so much blood horrific under any circumstance, let alone pouring from the skull of one so young. Emma couldn't feel her anymore, and Jesse couldn't find a pulse. And their rage grew out of all rational proportion.

They cornered Adam near the stairwell. He looked frightened but they didn't care. Concentrating, Emma made him feel caged, locked in. Shackles as effectively real as iron. There was something not quite right about it, but her anger and hatred outshone any second thought. She left the final decision to Jesse, though, the one who'd been used most.

Jesse could feel the rage in Emma. She wasn't pushing it at him or making him feel it, it was just there for anyone to feel, and he chose to let it take him along too, because everything had come crashing back. It wasn't just the drugs, Adam had been there at the interrogation. Adam had seen him when Vic- Langley'd had him. Adam had even been to some of her functions and humiliated him, boasted how he'd used Jesse's trust in him to bring down Cyberteam. They were all there in his head - Langley and Morrisen, both using and abusing in their own ways, and finally Adam, abusing his trust, using the fact that he didn't remember. Emma hadn't enlightened him either, but she'd her own problems, he'd seen that for himself.

And they had the man now in front of them, once friend, father and mentor, now betrayer and violator and the man who wanted to destroy his creations. The man, who seemed unmoved that he'd just left a little girl lying unconscious, yet was clearly frightened for his own life. Well, he should be - the creations were fighting back.

Burning rage stoked higher. He already counted himself a killer, had done so since he'd first stood by and watched two other manipulators die right in front of him. Burning, surging, pulling at the bit, he'd known it was the right thing to do, and he'd done it since in the line of duty.

"Please, you don't want to kill him, trust me, you don't." Adam's voice was uncharacteristically pleading.

"Should have thought about that before you destroyed us," he said, and phased the floor, watching detachedly side by side with Emma, the pair of them emotionless as Adam fell screaming to his death.

Shalimar was the first to approach them, her face white with shock. Brennan, still shaky but mobile, had gone with Lena downstairs to see what was left.

And Adam - the real Adam - was behind Emma and Jesse, cradling the moaning girl with Charlotte on his arm. She'd touched him less than a moment after he'd sent the girl flying, when he realised what he'd done. With Brennan's help they'd resuscitated the child, but that small relief amidst so much shock to his system became insignificant as they followed the impassioned appeal from near the stairwell. Picking the girl up gently, they'd hurried over and Adam felt a gut-wrenching shell shock as they all stared at the empty spot where Dale had begged them not to do it.

Chapter 12: Month 11  
\+ Month 11  
"Good news, kiddies," Proxy Blue started up. "I have it on good authority that the remaining battling factions have resolved their issues. No more midnight fireworks, at least not of the kind we don't like.

"Rebuilding is moving apace, and most of the national grid is back online without the need for mutant batteries. That's all I got for now, and don't forget, if you think the people need to know, then let me know."

Lena switched off the link and looked around her. They'd all moved into Genomex on both Adam and Eckhart's insistence, so she had a good system now. But she was finding it hard not to get depressed. They were all walking wounded, and some had wounds that were more raw than others.

And then there was Darius. He'd been gone for over a year, vanished into the system and she'd been too concerned over her own survival and their cause to have made much more than token attempts to find him. But in an effort to avoid the urge to crawl into a hole and just give up, she'd started taking a serious crack at searching him out, with no leads so far.

The only bright spark in her life was Cyber, the mute girl who only really came alive, was only able to speak and show when she was in cyberspace. Whenever she was online, Cyber was right there with her, sitting on her lap as she typed, or sharing headspace when she was in VR.

But the girl was also bonded with the blond boy and didn't like to leave him for long. Lena was actually grateful that Jesse kept pushing Cyber away; it could only be good in the long run. But her heart broke when he vanished for long days and the child kept watch for him from a window, refusing to move even for a spot of cyber-surfing until he was back in the building.

On those days Lena kept her company, read with her and played. They had long one-sided conversations, and if it weren't for her need to find Darius and run Proxy, she might've considered looking out for Cyber. It wasn't as if the girl had family left willing to claim her for their own.

Maybe she'd just make sure she went to a good home.

Jesse couldn't stand to be in company for long. He kept feeling their eyes on him, judging and accusing even when they weren't. And he'd walked in on more than one conversation they'd been having about him, heard that awkward silence that happens when no one wants to admit they were talking behind your back.

He didn't know what they were saying, though, and it ate away at already exposed and raw nerves.

Emma had been the worst. He honestly thought she was with him. They'd murdered that mutant together, yet she seemed to be handling things so much better than him. She'd sat by him, pulled him round so she could look him straight in the eyes.

"It's a matter of perspective," Emma told him matter of factly, almost ruthlessly. "We killed Adam. He knows now that we'd do it again if we had to, and that's enough. That's all there is to it. You murdered that mutant. Because you can't separate the two. You've heard the others say it. All he'd have to have done was shifted shape and we would have stopped. It was an accident. And anyway, it's not like we actually knew the guy."

"But the others did, and the intent was there," Jesse had protested.

"What, you didn't want to destroy him?"

"I did, but…"

"It was an accident, Jesse, one that could have been avoided. If it happened again, my intent would not change. How about yours?"

He'd not been able to answer then.

"Grow up, Jesse, we're not kids anymore and it's not an ideal world out there, you know that with all you've been through. None of us can ever be the same, and you need to decide whether you're going to spend your life regretting the mistakes or appreciating your own efforts. Because believe me, the world is only too happy to help you do the former, but no one will do the latter for you."

Jesus, but she'd grown so cold. Although she was right. He had to figure out where he was going. He'd needed to get out, had borrowed a car for a day, or sometimes a couple of days, just to get away.

Especially from Shalimar and Brennan. Those two were thick as thieves these days. Brennan blanked him when he could and sniped when he couldn't. Shalimar kept starting to say something, started to put her hand on his arm, but always pulled away like she couldn't stand to.

Adam was never around at all, which was probably a good thing.

He walked miles through busy streets and empty countryside. Contemplated the idea of targeting one of these innocents to see if he could kill them out of hand. Found that he couldn't even stomach the idea. Concluded that Emma had a point.

Conceded that he had to put himself first. That if he admitted every violation that was done to him, then he had every right to be the bleeding wreck on the outside that he was on the inside. But he was stronger than that, had already proven it to himself in the dark of night with a razor blade that had gone back into its case as pristine as it had come out. There was no one else who needed to know, or he needed to prove it to.

What did remain for him to do was face down the others like Emma was doing with such seeming success, and thereby ensure that no one would use him again. He'd had the power once, more power than he'd known what to do with. He could have it again.

Shalimar felt very alone, finding herself growing closer to Brennan since he was the only one there. Paulo had offered her his shoulder once but Charlotte, although she tried to be understanding, was also very possessive, something she knew that Paulo would love. And she was happy for him.

Of course she was sad about Dale, sad that s/he'd never really had an opportunity to live for hirself. She'd understood that Dale had only tried to help, the way s/he did best. To some, hir death might have been pointless, but to her it had prevented Adam's, and that was a sacrifice that some might consider have been worth making. As far as she was concerned that had yet to be proven, but she was willing to keep an open mind. For Dale's sake.

Jesse, she just didn't know what to say to him. She could see the raw pain he was in, but didn't know how to make it go away, didn't know how to make the blood stop crawling over her when she went to reassure, hug him.

He seemed to reach a decision at some point and the pain went away, to be replaced by something colder and harder, and she still couldn't touch him.

Emma plain scared her. There was nothing left of the sweet mischievous child she'd known before. And while Emma was still happy to do girl talk, there was always a dark undercurrent that she couldn't quite place. And with her too, there was the blood. Though not so strong, but perhaps that was because she never felt the urge touch this Emma.

As much as she was growing closer to Brennan, more because he was just there than anything else, she was finding it difficult to know what he was feeling. Initially he'd been angry, shouting at Jesse and Emma, lashing out whenever he could. Jesse had just taken it, withdrawing in on himself, while hurt defiance sparked in his haunted eyes. Emma, on the other hand, had spit back accusations of betrayal in return and they'd almost had a major war occurring in the canteen.

Having talked with Emma, Shalimar now knew where the younger woman was coming from. She thought her misguided, but not having been there herself she'd had to accept that Emma had felt betrayed by both Brennan and Dale.

Brennan himself had seemed to calm down after the initial anger had burned out. But still he refused to talk to either Emma or Jesse.

And Adam looked positively ill the few times she'd seen him. Working himself into the ground, it seemed to her, and running away as fast as his IQ points could carry him.

Shalimar felt as though she were being split apart. And guilty too. Because she'd chosen Brennan over Jesse once, and now it seemed she was committed to repeating that whether she liked it or not.

Brennan didn't know what to think. Sure he'd been seriously pissed about Dale. S/he'd been annoying as all hell, but endearing too. Kinda like a team mascot. And not much more than a kid. He wasn't even sure who he was mad at, Jesse and Emma, Dale, or himself.

But with Shalimar's observations that Jesse, Emma and Adam weren't dealing well themselves, and reassurance that he wasn't to blame, he'd taken a step back.

Adam, he was indifferent to. Didn't really know what to feel. Didn't really understand the whole moral polarity thing. He hadn't been brainwashed or had someone in his head telling him what to do. Adam not dealing well was Adam's lookout as far he was concerned. He'd deal with the man as and when he had to.

Emma wasn't Emma anymore and while, in a way, he mourned that loss, he also respected the mature and hard-edged woman she was turning into. And Jesse just plain left him off-balance, so much so that he felt the need to push him away. The younger man was becoming darker somehow, stronger, and he felt just a bit threatened by it.

Emma found herself getting frustrated by those around her. They were all so easy to read, easy to manipulate if she so wanted. She kept herself from doing so, but just the knowledge that she could made her contemptuous of them.

She worked hard to build her mental shields up, having been spoiled by the combined shielding she'd had in the Circle. But being as determined as she was never to be subject to others whims, it didn't take her long to be in a position where she could reach out without too much fear of someone reaching back in.

Not being able to read people's minds, put actual thoughts there, make them do things directly, or hallucinate, move object telekinetically, all these things, left a big hole in her, one she filled with a need to have more power in her own field, to attain fine control of it. And a dark need to control others and make them do her bidding.

Because that was what she was designed to do, and she just couldn't deny it any longer.

As she felt Jesse get stronger, make himself colder and harder, she sensed an ally there. Not in the way he'd wanted initially, but in a mutual understanding of the need not to let anyone use them again. She thought about offering to help and teach him to raise mental shields of his own to seal an alliance. He was no psionic, but she could teach him to feel it, to know when someone was trying to get in. Of course, she'd leave a backdoor for herself and expected no less from him in turn.

Shalimar was, well, Shalimar, and always would be, and that was cool, that would keep her grounded more than anything else. She felt a new fear in the feral, didn't need to read her to sense it, one that undermined her natural tactile nature and compassion. But, whatever Shalimar might think, it was healing slowly but surely.

She'd had her petty revenge on Brennan, and bore him no particular hatred now, but she found it very difficult to relate to him, settling for the mutual trading of sometimes viciously barbed insults.

And Adam. Poor guilt-ridden, weak and ineffectual Adam. Jesse had no idea how strong he was inside; given how much he'd been through, he made Adam's efforts to be strong seem pitiful and pathetic. Again, she bore no hatred for the man, not anymore. But unlike Brennan who couldn't help his inadequacies, even worked to rise above them and better himself, Adam had always touted himself as more intelligent than that. And he was, in certain areas. But not here and now.

One day, Adam would wake up and find himself utterly alone in the world, and wouldn't be able to comprehend why.

One good thing that warmed her frozen heart was seeing Jeff again. She was sorry that Julie hadn't turned up, but Jeff reminded her of the good she'd done before. Alongside Shalimar's friendship, he stopped her from giving in completely to her darker side.

Adam couldn't face himself in the mirror, let alone any of the others. He'd been through this once before, but last time he'd done little that couldn't be easily forgiven. This time he'd done or caused so much more damage that forgiveness was a word he wouldn't hear from anyone anytime soon, least of all himself.

He felt guilty for Dale's death, of that there was no doubt. But if he were honest, hir death was just the last in a long, long line of death and suffering that he'd caused, whether directly or indirectly, and there was no getting over that.

And he'd betrayed almost every one of his children.

Except Shalimar. She was the only one who looked at him with pity instead of scorn, and he wasn't sure if that wasn't worse, because he didn't deserve it.

Sure he'd been under an influence, and exercised bad judgement. But Charlotte's powers couldn't create what wasn't already there; she only reversed the polarity of what a person was already capable of, skewed the moral compass, as it were.

The bottom line was that even now, clear of any influence, he was capable of doing it all again. It just required the right stimulus. And that horrified him more than the deeds he'd actually done.

He looked at his team - or the team he still thought of as his - and none of them were the same team that he used to know. They'd all grown up, lost their innocence, even Brennan who would swear blind he'd had no innocence to start off with.

And he was responsible for that.

Which was why he was hiding out under the guise of building a new Sanctuary. One geared towards helping mutants integrate into society, relocating those that needed the help, and placing those that had trouble controlling their mutancy with those that could help them.

Making reparation.

Mason Eckhart was feeling rather… chirpy. There really was no other word for it. The dermal regenerator, rapid fluid intake and a new supply of dermal covering, and he both looked and felt so much cleaner than he had in far, far too long. While he would never admit it out loud, the relief from the constant pain of rotting skin was almost exhilarating.

But what cheered him the most was the agreement he'd struck with Adam. One in which he felt he came out satisfactorily on top.

Not only was Genomex his, which he'd demanded from the outset, but Adam had generously given him LexMor too. No doubt to help assuage his guilt, but who was he to refuse?

There was no doubt that the remainder of Morrisen Industries that Adam had appropriated immediately after his abrupt death would ironically go towards the maintenance and running of Sanctuary. And the condition for Eckhart's unequivocal takeover was merely the accommodation of team members and support in rebuilding Sanctuary, all of which, given the indignities and sacrifices he'd had to make recently, he gladly capitulated to - although he'd never have let Adam or anyone else know that, preferring to bitch about it instead. It might make them get out quicker, too.

He called a meeting of all of them, as agreed with Adam, to inform them of the situation, and to advise them that he would be moving into LexMor until such time as they'd vacated the premises. And as a parting gift, he left the box of rings on the table. "For better or worse you're back together now, and may I say how much you deserve each other. Now I must dash. Goodbye."

Eckhart strode out of the room and directly out of Genomex, leaving everyone to stare at the box without anyone venturing to touch it.

Lena decided to break the silence. She told them of the forgotten political prisoners held in remand at a facility across state. Told them that she had reason to believe that Darius might be among them, but with only numbers to identify them, she had no way of knowing and had exhausted her resources trying to find a place where name might be matched up with number. Asked them to just go look, see if he was there, in which case she could launch an appeal.

"Sure," Shalimar volunteered, "I'll go look." She wouldn't stand for caging the innocent.

"Right by your side," agreed Brennan, predictably.

"My gun is always yours, Chiquita," Paulo volunteered to Charlotte's frown.

"No," said Emma. "It should be us five. Paulo, thank you for volunteering, the gesture is appreciated. But guys, we have a problem." They all listened, mostly because they didn't know what else to do. "None of us know what to do with ourselves now. Some of us don't want to be here, but we don't have anywhere else to go. Some of us don't know if we could ever look the others in the eye, much less work together. We need to find out, and I think a simple recon mission will help us each decide that. "

"Speak for yourself, Emma," Jesse said with an insolent grin. "I have somewhere to go."

"You're thinking about Cyberteam, aren't you?" Shalimar said, looking at her clasped hands on the table.

"So what if I am? Won't take that many modifications to make it legit."

"Jess, Emma's right. I understand that you, that maybe you think it's best you leave, but I want… would like for us to give being a family again one more shot. Because that's what we are, and I don't… I need you guys, all of you." With that last, she raised her eyes to look directly at Adam, who was shaking his head before she was finished.

"No, no way. You don't need me for something like this, you could do it with your eyes shut."

"You're missing the point, Adam," Brennan added. "It's not what the mission is that's important. It's the fact that Shal wants us – "

"And what Shalimar wants, Shalimar gets!" Adam retorted and Shalimar flinched.

"Hey, she's been in your corner all along, so don't you dare attack her!" Brennan snapped, standing up so fast his chair tipped over.

"Shut up both of you!" It was Shalimar's turn to shout and rounded on a startled Brennan first. "You are not my protector, boyfriend, keeper or father, so don't you dare presume to fight my battles for me!" Heated glare turned to Adam. "You need to stop being so damned selfish and get your ass out of that hole you're in and face up to what happened. Because like it or not, it did - so deal with it.

"And don't you look so damned smug, Emma. Where do you get off being so superior all the time? I know you had it rough, but so did we all one way or another. Get over yourself, already. And Jesse, I know you're trying real hard to be strong, but you're trying so fucking hard you're gonna break something. Talk to someone outside of all of this. See a shrink or something, but stop building walls." She paused and softened a bit.

"I guess I should include myself too. But, you know what? I'm tired of beating myself up for not being able to make you guys happy, or even deal with my own problems. I know it's not gonna be easy and oh God, this is all just so cliché, but we are family. We came back together in the end, didn't we? And even real families change through age and experience, without losing touch. So why can't we be the same?" She looked around, then slumped back to the table and moaned loudly, "Oh God, I just did 'Mom' again, didn't I?"

"Yup," said Jesse, with a weak grin, "and just because you did it so well, I think I'll come along and make sure you don't start doing inappropriate 'Mom' stuff."

"Does that make me 'Dad'?" Adam asked tentatively.

"Like hell," said Brennan, trying hard not to smile. "With what she just said? That's me. You get to be the French 'odd' Stewart one."

"And that would make Emma 'The Head'," said Jesse and at Emma's evil look, raised his hands in defence. "Guess I'll shut up now before some smart ass labels me the 'desperate to get laid' kid."

"If the shoe's too big," Emma suddenly giggled, and even Adam cracked a smile.

Chapter 13: Month 12  
\+ Month 12  
Proxy Blue regarded her viewers with a positively wolfishly snarky grin, her colours as bright and changeable as they used to be a very long time ago. "You people know how to make a girl proud. With anti-mutant protests and behaviour on the decline, we can lump the whole debacle in with racism, sexism and all the other –isms, the minorities fight every day; no more, and no less. And there's even a support group for misfit mutants and humans who just can't seem to get along with the mutant next door. You can find more information and website URLs at Proxy's usual links page.

"LexMor has been shuffled into what can tentatively be called the Genomex Group, and has secured the government contract for genetic R&D. Like that was a surprise. Can you spell 'Monopoly'?

"The security agency in charge of the Stacklin Detention Centre has back peddled, accepting full responsibility for the mass breakout in light of the fact that the inmates were political detainees of the infamous Inner Circle, held indefinitely without trial. Apparently they couldn't help themselves.

"One last little mutant related point. All of you nasty little hacks out there that are trying to blame the whole war on the Prozac Syndrome and the so-called Psionic Circle, take a look at the chronology. It was all down to human nature. And don't you mutants start going all smug, because you have that very same human nature. I dare you to deny it.

"On a more personal note, with the mutants out of the closet and things more or less getting back to normal, this gal is running out of news bigger than 'that mutant ate my sheep'. So, we're expanding our horizons and looking to pastures anew." Here Proxy Blue paused for a very long beat. "You may remember some sixty odd years ago a popular rumour about a little nowhere place by the name of Roswell. You know what I'm talking about, true believers, and I'm not looking for lights in the sky or alien abductions, but if you have gossip on exactly who did what to whom and why in order to cover up the stuff that was never covered up, than drop me a line."

The new Sanctuary had been built on the old. It was only a shell for the moment, some basic accommodation for a dozen people at present, yet held just five.

Paulo had taken his men back home with Charlotte, who had ambitious plans to make him a respectable gentleman of note. Not only had Darius been in Stacklin, but also a blue haired girl named Darlene as well as Julie, much to Jeff's delight, and it was they who volunteered to take Cyber on under her given name, Sarah.

The Kilmartin fortune, integrated into Morrisen Industries, was put back where it belonged with the sole heir, and Cyberteam profits were joined with Morrisen profits and used to maintain Sanctuary.

The five people left in residence had found an uneasy truce. The banter was back, in fits and starts, but it was interspersed with awkward silences that thankfully grew fewer as time went by. They were more a collection of individuals at this point, but anyone who had known them from back in the old days could see that slowly they were drawing together again.

The coms systems were back up and running, and though Adam considered making new devices, he thought he'd offer the rings once more. He could modify them to work with the new systems and they were somehow symbolic. But then again they were the past and he wanted to forget the past, to move on.

In the end, the modifications provided the solution to his dilemma. He needed to weld a slim copper filament in, and although he could have had it folded inside the metal of the rings, instead he had it inlaid in the surface.

The silver metal bands as they had been and always would be, representative of the family they were, come hell or high water, bisected by the copper line of blood and the hell they'd been through, that had split them apart and brought them back together. The same, yet different. More.

They had a little party with a bottle of champagne to celebrate the fact that they'd all taken their rings back, to celebrate the fact that Mutant X was back. With a different agenda, to be sure, with a different future and different people, but the family remained the same, united despite the differences.

Shalimar couldn't stop hugging everyone, while Brennan boasted his prowess on the basketball court that day, and Adam talked excitedly about plans. Slightly outside the louder, more extrovert three, Emma and Jesse looked at each other across the room, raising their glasses with a smile passing between them. Friendly and gentle to the passing glance, but on closer examination his was perhaps a little colder than the old Jesse might have given, and hers with maybe just a hint of malevolence.

FINIS


End file.
